


The Vanguard's Reprisal

by Hyperionova



Category: EXO (Band)
Genre: Action/Adventure, Age Difference, Blood and Gore, Dead and living - Freeform, Fantasy, Fictional World, Gods, Hell, Kings & Queens, LOTS of violence, Love/Hate, M/M, Magic, Minor characters' deaths, Nekron - Freeform, Priest!Sehun, Religious Conflict, Royalty, Sehun has a mild ADHD, Smut, Supernatural Elements, Warrior!Rune
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-08
Updated: 2018-12-16
Packaged: 2019-09-14 05:50:37
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 5
Words: 88,813
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16907298
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Hyperionova/pseuds/Hyperionova
Summary: He had died and faced the Diminisher. He returned to the land of the living with a Mark that would haunt for the rest of his life. Rune Degenhard was an ordinary man who hadn't expected great things to happen to him. When he was framed for a crime he did not commit, he was forced to embark on a journey that would change the fate of the realm and its dwellers.He was a born a prince, who lived in the shadows of his older brother. As everyone believed his name was all that defined him, Sehun Raiganiel, the Young Prince of Raenythör strove to be better than anyone else. For that he was a server of the God, Rune was everything he was taught to repel.Fate brought them together to fight alongside each other to restore the kingdom's peace.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

  * For [amoretto](https://archiveofourown.org/users/amoretto/gifts), [Kai_maaya](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Kai_maaya/gifts), [anu076](https://archiveofourown.org/users/anu076/gifts).



> And [Qeeyas](https://twitter.com/keeyahun)  
> The story is inspired by Game of Thrones, Skyrim, and Dishonored.  
> This is just the prologue to give you a taste of the story. The rest of the story will be posted all at once very soon! Thank you if you leave kudos and comments. Have an adventurous read!

# N O T E S

****

**_Days:_ **

Plesdag – First day of the week

Gnulsdag – Second day of the week

Jorkdag – Third day of the week

Knadag – Fourth day of the week

Stydag – Fifth day of the week

Lemdag – Sixth day of the week

Dardag – Last day of the week

**_Months:_ **

Enmoon – First month of the year

Tomoon – Second month of the year

Tremoon – Third month of the year

Firmoon – Fourth month of the year

Femoon – Fifth month of the year

Sekmoon – Sixth month of the year

Symoon – Seventh month of the year

Otemoon – Eighth month of the year

Nimoon – Ninth month of the year

Temoon – Tenth month of the year

Ellmoon – Eleventh month of the year

Tolmoon – Last month of the year

 

 

**[COVER](https://i.imgur.com/Q1HiR38.png) **

**[MAP](https://i.imgur.com/cEwN7eo.png) **

 

 

* * *

 

# P A R T   O N E

* * *

 

 

 

 

# P R O L O G U E

 

Gulls circled the afternoon sky, a perfect, cloudless blue canvas against the scorching golden sun. It was almost too hot to move in the blinding light of midsummer. The scene at Akrowyth Harbour got busier every time he witnessed it. But there was no place like home, he supposed.

A disorientating haze. The City of Akrowyth, the capital of Raenythör, was always busy, always teeming with carriages, horses, throngs of people, commoners and nobilities alike rubbing shoulders. Akrowyth, home to the tallest of buildings, smoothest of roads, hottest of days, drunkest of evenings, grandest of brothels, and fiercest of women and men in all of Raenythör. But most of all, across the seven seas and the nine realms, Raenythör held arrant order. Order which wasn’t won by peace. Quite the contrary. Like any peace, it was also won by wars and bloodsheds.

The smell of roasting sand, broiling grit swirled with the heat in the muggy air, which pressed in on him as he disembarked the ship. First thing he decided he’d be doing when he reached the Akrowyth Palace was getting out of this godforsaken uniform that now smelled of sweat, salt of the sea, cheap ale, and nothing else good, and soak in a long, cold bath. He deserved that much, at least, after spending more than two months away in the dismal Land of Corora. That was many days of sleeping on cold, damp loam and drinking animal piss when his waterskin was drained.

“Lord Vanguard,” the Captain of the Queen’s Guard bade with a nod of his head.

“Captain,” Rune replied dully, stomped past the younger man.

“The Queen awaits your arrival, My Lord.”

It always sounded like a melodious hymn to his ears whenever he heard that his Queen awaited him.

“What has spawned in my absence, Zelos?” Rune inquired offhandedly as he started towards the horses.

The Captain regarded Rune with a stale expression and said, “Not much.”

“Is this due to uneventful hours of the day or your reliable competence, Captain?” There was perceptible derision in Rune’s tone.

Zelos did not answer that question. He knew better. Good for him. He had learned his lessons. Zelos was steadfast and young, albeit ineffectual and unfit for his position as the Captain of the Queen’s Guard. He was the Queen’s nephew, whose parents had perished in an incursion by mercenaries while they were departing for Hadräze. The Queen, as merciful and affectionate as she was, had been caring for Zelos ever since.

Rune shared no such sentiments. He was related to no one. He was dutiful to no one but the royal family.

A few resting and imbibing seafarers by the stacked barrels bowed when they noticed him striding by.

“Lord Vanguard,” they addressed him in unison, all holding out tankards of mead. Rune accepted one of them and quenched his thirst for alcohol.

“My thanks, fellow friends,” Rune thanked the men and proceeded to the horses.

“How did your assignment fare in Corora?” Captain Zelos asked, as though to make conversation.

Rune looked at him. “It was obviously not one of your religious vocations, where you’d bend for some priests and believe in things that do not exist and force others to believe in them, too.” He noticed how Zelos’ face crumpled. Unlike most of Akrowyth, Rune was not a religious man. “Hunting Cororian insurgents, driving my blade through their heads. It was real fun.”

“We have very conflicting definitions of ‘fun’, Lord Vanguard,” Zelos said, smiling.

“Don’t I know that,” Rune scoffed.

As they reached their horses, Rune greeted his black beast with a stroke in its mane. Prymos nudged his nose into Rune’s hand and huffed excitedly.

“Missed me, have you?” he said to the horse and clapped one hand to the saddle, gripping the rein with the other.

“You say  _we_  believe in things that do not exist,” Zelos said as they mounted their steeds. Rune gazed ahead at the roads and the city. “You believe in Hergroc.”

It halted Rune in his pace. He glanced over to Zelos with an arched eyebrow. “I do,” he said blatantly. “because I have… seen Him. I have not seen these Gods you kneel before with froth in your mouth.”

“Just because you haven’t seen the Gods, it doesn’t mean they do not exist. If there’s a Diminisher, then there must be a Maker.”

Rune snorted. “I will believe it when I see it, then.”

With that, they started for the palace.

They rode through the streets in no haste, although Rune wanted nothing more than to make haste for his well-deserved rest. And more importantly, to meet his Queen again.

Pedlars and traders squawked on every corner. Children skipped about with wooden swords and ragdolls. Neither were hindered by the scalding sun. Amidst tan, burned skins, Rune detected an ashen, pasty, decaying skin.

He slowed his horse. Prymos pranced for a moment, as though he were spooked. Rune calmed him by rubbing his neck. He then looked over to the naked, grey-skinned man, standing amid an oblivious crowd that paid the dead man no heed. His white eyes met Rune’s blue ones.

Jaw squared, Rune tightened his fists around the reins of his horse.

“Lord Vanguard?” Zelos diverted him, noticing that Rune had stopped. “Is everything all right.”

“Yes,” Rune quickly said and proceeded after the Captain. The pair of blank, white eyes followed him. Despairingly.

* * *

“Lord Vanguard,” Vulred rasped when Rune passed the bailey’s garden. “You have returned. I was not informed of your return today.”

The wrinkles on the old scholar’s forehead tautened in surprise. “Good afternoon, Counsel Vulred,” Rune said, bowing his head. He might be the commanding officer of the Queen’s army, he still held a rank below the Queen’s advisor.

“The Queen must be delighted with your return,” the aged man said with a faint smile. “But you look like you have rolled in mud and bedded filthy hogs for days.”

Rune rifled his fingers through his overgrown beard and sighed. “I did fuck a bear on the fifteenth day.”

Vulred grimaced. “And how was she?”

“All fangs and fur,” Rune said unenthusiastically. “I ought to clean myself up before presenting myself before the Queen, then.”

“She might not have the patience for that.” Vulred shuddered into his grey robe and ushered Rune to take a walk with him. “But you have come home in good timing.”

Rune cocked an eyebrow, clasping his hands together at his back. His gaze momentarily landed on the servant boy, who ambled past him, bearing a silver tray. The charming boy’s youthful eyes lifted to Rune and glimmered. He then bashfully lowered them. Rune leered at the lad’s hollow collarbones and smooth brown skin for a moment before turning his attention back to Vulred.

“In good timing for what?” he asked the Counsel.

“The Young Prince just returned to Akrowyth a fortnight ago.”

For a length, Rune could only stare at the older man. When he had found his voice again, he said, “Has he already completed his mastership at the College of Nabooru?”

“Yes… The Queen is holding a dance to celebrate his return in four days.”

Zelos joined them shortly after when they sauntered into a corridor. “Lord Vanguard, Her Grace is waiting for you in her belvedere,” he informed Rune.

“I shall go see Her Grace right away, then,” he told Vulred and bowed. Once he had turned away from the Queen’s Counsel, he scowled at Zelos. “Did you forget to mention the Young Prince’s return, or did you deliberately choose to disregard it?”

Zelos followed him on his way to the Queen’s Belvedere. “It had slipped my mind, My Lord. I beg for your pardon.”

Rune shook his head. “Who’s assigned to guard him?”

“A fraction of the Crown Prince’s Guard,” Zelos answered.

“Upon whose orders?”

Zelos hesitated when Rune had come to a standstill. “Uh… Mine, My Lord. Her Grace ordered me to—”

“Ordered you to donate half of the Crown Prince’s Guard and leave His Highness guarded half-assed?” Rune snapped. “Did you not  _think_  before sacrificing a portion of Raenythör’s future King’s defence line?!”

Zelos lowered his gaze.

“You will recruit some new guards,” Rune then ordered. “I will screen them myself, and I will handpick the Young Prince’s Guard, understood?”

“Yes, My Lord,” the Captain said.

“Now, get to work.”

Zelos turned away and took his leave without another word.

Sucking in a few deep breaths, Rune tugged at the collar of his black uniform and headed for the belvedere, hand resting on the hilt of his scimitar.

The sweet fragrance of flowers, almost sickly, wafted in the air as he neared the Queen’s Belvedere. It reminded Rune of the Queen’s gentle smile and nonpareil gracefulness. Like the formidable flowers that grew in the heat of Akrowyth, the Queen was just as fierce, nonetheless beautiful. Irresistible. Kings far beyond the seven seas sought her hand in marriage. Richest of men made her promises no ordinary man could. Yet, she chose to remain true to the memories of her late husband, King Vaalthor.

Vaalthor had not deserved her. He was a lazy, ham-fisted Prince from the Kingdom of Seasworth, who had squandered all of his time drinking, hunting, entertaining his court, and on the lap of courtesans. He didn’t change much after the previous King Raiganiel married his only daughter to him and made him the King of Raenythör.

The belvedere was possibly the quietest place in all of Akrowyth. In an atmosphere of serenity and tranquillity, his Queen stood, tall and proud, her long, black hair cascading against her back.

“It’s good to have you back,” she said before Rune had even had the chance of making his presence known. She turned around and faced Rune with a weary but warm smile.

“Feels good to be back, Your Grace,” Rune replied in a stern voice with a curt bow of his head.

The Queen returned her gaze to the city that lay beneath and before her. She was quiet for a stretch.

“I hear Prince Sehun has come home,” Rune remarked, taking her side. He studied her side profile. It almost hurt. The rawness in her beauty.

She sighed. “He has grown a lot. When was the last time you saw him?”

“Some ten years ago, I reckon,” Rune replied. “You… do not seem pleased enough to have your youngest child back home, Your Grace.”

The Queen smiled at Rune, then. “I  _am_  displeased,” she admitted.

“With your youngest son’s return?”

“No,” she said. “Well, perhaps. You’ll find out why when you meet him.”

Rune laughed despite himself. “I am not looking forward to that encounter, Your Grace.”

She snickered. The laughter quickly died and was replaced by a moue. She covered a hand over the Amulet of Idaemïr around her neck. The ruby in it flickered lightly every time she touched it. “Something doesn’t feel right,” she muttered, frowning.

Rune took a step closer to her. “What do you mean?”

She shook her head. “For the past two weeks, I’ve felt like… I could not  _breathe_. It feels as though… something unfortunate comes our way.”

Rune took hold of her hand. The Queen froze, her brown eyes boring into Rune’s. “I will always protect you, Alastríona,” he promised in a whisper, his callused fingers tightening around her slender digits. He then quickly released them, licking his lips.

She smiled. “I know you will, Rune.” She turned around and looked at the city again. “But you must protect Garan and Sehun before me.”

“My Queen—”

“You must be tired,” she cut him off without facing him. “You shall have your rest now. And thank you for handling the Corora matter very skilfully. Your success did not come to me as a surprise.”

Rune had no heart to leave her side. But he knew better than to disobey his Queen’s orders. He bowed once and walked away.

When he arrived in his quarters, chambermaids were already making his bed and drawing him his bath. Rune removed his clothes and boots before stepping into the bathing chamber.

After a long, cooling bath, he stood before the mirror and trimmed his beard. His hair now stood slightly above his shoulders. He tied it in half and stepped out into the bedchamber, where he found a busty blonde chambermaid pouring him a cup of wine from the ewer and the pretty servant boy from earlier.

“Are you new?” Rune asked the servant lad, who jumped with a start as he spun around to confront Rune.

“L-Lord… Vanguard,” the boy stuttered, bowing. His eyes ventured down Rune’s unclothed and undried body. “Yes, Milord.”

The chambermaid brought Rune a set of nightshirt and pants. “Your bed’s been made, Milord,” she said without meeting Rune’s eyes.

Rune smirked at her. “I just need someone to keep it warm for me now.”

The servant boy’s eyes widened, though in a cheeky way.

The chambermaid, on the other hand, smiled and brought a hand to Rune’s chest. “We’ll be honoured to, Lord Vanguard.”

* * *

_Ten years ago…_

“I’ll hide, and you seek!” Prince Sehun chimed, clinging onto Rune’s arm. “Please, please, Rune. Play with me. Pretty please.”

Rune smiled down at the scraggly, pale little boy, at his eager eyes and wide, eager grin. “Of course, My Prince.”

Prince Sehun was… peculiar. He had Alastríona’s eyes, her enchanting semblance. But his skin was as pale as the first snow. Not even the brutal sun of Akrowyth could tan it. Even at the age of nine, the boy was spindly, taller than most boys his age. While Akrowians were all too keen on picking up swords as both their leisure and life pursuits, the Young Prince was more interested in listening to Vulred narrate fables and fairy tales hours on. And it was almost as though he were living in his own fairy tale, where nothing went wrong, and everything made him happy. A playful child with a warm heart. He was unlike most Akrowians. If it weren’t for the uncanny resemblance he bore to his mother…

He grew up without a father, something Rune could relate to, which was why his every whim was catered to. Before the Queen knew it, her younger son was turning out to be an overly cosseted brat. Now, everyone had to wait on him hand and foot.

He spent most of his time running around the palace, playing with guards and servants. Although he and his brother, Prince Garan, were close in age, Prince Sehun preferred the company of his servants while Prince Garan was caught up at his lessons—politics, trade, music, painting, war strategies—that would shape him into the future King of Raenythör.

Rune waited a few moments before he went seeking, dawdling around the courtyard garden, actively avoiding the bed of boulders near the pond, where the Prince was hiding.

“Lord Vanguard,” Rune heard the Queen’s approaching footsteps before he heard her voice. He turned around and confronted the Queen with a bow.

“Your Grace.”

Alastríona smiled at him as she descended the garden steps, Counsel Vulred and a couple of guards accompanying her. “It is a wonderful day, isn’t it?” the Queen said, walking towards Rune.

The day was dull, almost routine. Rune gazed up at the sky and squinted at the sun. “It is… uneventful,” Rune replied.

The Queen chuckled. A soft chime that was rarely heard. She seemed to be in a good mood. “You were never one to look at the brighter sides of life.”

Rune smirked. “When you’ve been to the  _sides_ I have, Your Majesty, you wouldn’t either.”

She beckoned to Vulred and the guards to stay put while she joined Rune’s side. “Come. Take a walk with me.”

“Good news?” Rune asked, keeping his strides short and slow.

“Perhaps,” the Queen said with that pleasing smile again. She was wrong. Rune did look at the brighter side of life. He was looking at it right now. “Prince Sehun will be sent away to Nabooru when the ship arrives.”

“For his studies? Why?”

“He does not seem to respond well to the governesses and preceptors in Akrowyth.”

“He is young. Sending him away to a college would solve this problem, do you think?”

“He is inattentive and easily… distracted. He’s too playful. He is more passionate about folktales and myths and Prince  _Charmings_  and princesses. He has no passion for the matters of the monarchy. He’s… a lot like his father.”

“I beg to differ,” Rune said and saw a corner of the Queen’s lips quirk up into half a smile.

“He may look a lot like me, but his erratic behaviour is…  _him._ ” She paused, perhaps at a memory. “Vaalthor was also… fascinated with fantasies. I live in the real world, and Sehun will never be ready for the real world if he doesn’t learn our ways.”

“The ways of Raiganiels,” Rune said.

“One day, he will be Garan’s Counsel and he needs to acquire the competencies for that.”

“Perhaps he has his own ambitions.”

The Queen laughed. “He’s a Raiganiel, more so than Vaalthor and like you said, without the Raiganiels, there will be nothing but chaos in Raenythör.”

“His name isn’t the only thing that defines him, My Queen.”

That had Alastríona staring at him with something like curiosity for a moment. “No. But his blood is  _all_  that defines him, Lord Vanguard.”

Rune quietly looked at her.

“We received an envoy from Odawiya. They wish to aid our endeavours to trade in the east,” she said a moment later. “We shall be able to extend our trade routes.”

She then stopped to coax a fully bloomed red flower into her hand. Rune watched her inhale the scent of the bloom and admire the beauty of it.

“You have no interest in matters of the monarchy either, do you?” she asks, smiling in Rune’s way.

Rune smiled back, holding out a hand to pluck the flower from the bush. “Can’t say I do, Your Grace.” He held the flower to the Queen. “That is why I am a soldier.”

“A very good one.” Alastríona regarded the flower with woe. “It would have lived longer if you hadn’t picked it.”

Rune leaned closer. “It doesn’t matter how long one gets to live their life,” he said in a low voice. “It’s about  _how_  it is lived. This flower… has no better honour than to die in your fingers.”

The Queen looked at him for a length before she accepted the flower. “You know too much about life and death for your own good, Lord Vanguard.” She turned around.

“Are you disappointed, My Queen?” Rune asked, proceeding after her.

Alastríona glanced at him and shook her head gracefully. Rune’s eyes briefly flitted to the Amulet of Idaemïr resting against her chest. It was given to her by her father on his deathbed. The amulet was rumoured to hold powers that only a Raiganiel could wield. The ruby glowed at their very touch. It was what had made King Raiganiel and his ancestors great rulers and fighters. And Alastríona would be one, too.

“I, of all, understand you… Rune.”

Oh, what would Rune not give to hold her hand right now. To hold  _her_. To pledge his love for her. Not as a servant, but as a free man.

“You do not,” he muttered, though without hostility in his tone.

The Queen lowered her gaze. “I do. Believe me, Rune… I do… more than you think, more than neither of us want to.” Rune gripped his jaw as she heaved a sigh. “I ought to get back to my court.”

Rune bowed. “Your Grace.”

Once she had left him, with the flower in her hand, Rune slumped against the fence and dropped his gaze to the back of his calloused left hand. Against the dried-up scars and protruding veins, the Death Mark glared at him. He clenched his hand into a fist and gritted his teeth when the Mark stung. It always did when he looked at it. Loosening his fist, he let his hand drop to his side.

When he closed his eyes, he heard the nothingness again. Shuddering, he opened his eyes. Then he heard the sobbing and snivelling.

“Oh, fuck,” Rune murmured to himself, groaning, and hurried over to the pond, where he found Prince Sehun crouching behind the boulders, hugging his knees to his chest.

He was rocking himself, chin burrowed between his knees as he wept grievously with tears staining his cheeks unchecked.

“My Prince,” Rune rasped, lowering to a crouch.

Prince Sehun lifted his glassy red eyes to meet Rune’s. “You didn’t come seek,” he gasped between breaths. “You promised you would.”

“I… did,” Rune said. “come seeking.”

“No, you didn’t!” the Prince cried. “I s-saw you… walk away with my mother. You… forgot about me.”

Rune closed his eyes for a moment. “I apologize, My Prince,” he said slowly. “I did not mean to. It will not happen again.”

The Prince stopped crying as he sniffed and wiped his cheeks with the sleeves of his coat. “You’re not lying?”

“I’m not,” Rune said, holding out a hand.

After a moment of hesitation, Sehun took it and let himself be drawn away from the boulders and onto his feet. “I hid,” he said accusingly.

“I know, My Prince.”

“You didn’t seek,” he complained, looking up at Rune, who was towering tall above him.

“I know.”

The Prince scowled with a pout on his mouth and he crossed his arms over his chest. “Are you going to marry my mother?”

Rune’s eyes widened. “Prince… Se—”

“I don’t mind if you are,” he said, shrugging his shoulders. “I see the way you look at each other. She only smiles when she’s around you.” He looked repulsed as he said it.

Rune exhaled heavily. “No, Your Highness. I am… not marrying Her Grace. Now, come along. Let’s get you inside.”

He ushered Sehun towards the corridor.

“Well, if you are not going to marry my mother,” Prince Sehun then said. “will you marry me, Rune?”

Rune looked down at the boy with an arched eyebrow. “You certainly cannot be serious, My Prince. I’m a… servant. A dirty servant, who’s not quite compatible with Your Highness. You deserve beautiful princesses.”

“I know that,” Sehun said, wiping his nose. “But you are also very…” he trailed off, looking up at Rune before he quickly turned away, cheeks flushed red. “handsome.”

It was a mere whisper.

Rune laughed at that. “Do you really think I’m… handsome, My Prince?”

Sehun did not answer immediately. He chewed on his lower lip and at length, he nodded his head. “I like the way you wear your hair.”

Rune had never heard that compliment before. He did not even know that anyone paid attention to his shortly cropped hair. Not many Akrowians opted for shorter hairstyles, but Rune found it discomforting to wear it long, considering Akrowyth’s brutal climate.

“I find your hair remarkable, too,” Rune said. But then again, anybody would find the boy’s hair remarkable. Like the former King Raiganiel—Alastríona’s father—Sehun had hair in the colour of glimmering silver. “What else do you like?”

The boy came to a halt and stared at Rune. “That scar on your left temple.”

“Ah,” Rune let out. “There’s a fascinating story behind that.”

Sehun’s eyes instantly widened with excitement. “A story?!” he screeched. “I knew it! What is it? Will you tell me?”

“Of course,” Rune said, scrunching down to grab onto Sehun’s arms. “But some other day. Right now, your governess awaits you for your lessons.”

The Prince’s face twisted in discontent. “Aw, no,” he whined. “I do not want to go now. That old hag will continue to pall on me until I die. I order you to save me from her, Rune.”

Snickering, Rune shook his head. “I’m afraid I can’t obey that order, My Prince.”

“No! No! I don’t want to study. I want to play. Please, Rune.” He begged with a petulant expression. “Please, don’t make me go to my lessons.”

Rune sighed. “Well, you have to. Your mother will be very discontented if you don’t.”

“I do not care about what she thinks of me,” he snapped.

“You should. She’s your mother and the Queen,” Rune said in a sterner tone. Prince Sehun frowned. “All right… There must be something I can do for you to attend your lessons. A treat, perhaps?”

The Prince began to smirk after a moment of contemplation. “Marry me!”

Rune rose to his full height, blinking. “Marry you?”

“Yes, marry me and I’ll go to my lessons.”

Rune rubbed the scruff of his neck and took an audible, deep breath. “Very well. You should go to your lessons now. And I will… marry you later in the pavilion at sunset.”

Sehun’s mouth stretched into a wild grin. “Do you promise?!”

Rune smiled. “I promise.”


	2. Chapter 2

# C H A P T E R   O N E

_Present day…_

He roused in the dead of the night to the sound of incessant howling. Palace dogs. He was first met with the darkness of his bedchamber before he glanced to the open doors of the balcony. The drapes swayed with the wind that gushed in, baying almost as loud as the dogs.

In his arms, the servant boy and the chambermaid were fast asleep, warm and worn out. Rune carefully withdrew his arms from them and freed himself from their clasp before he climbed out of the crowded bed.

Finding a pair of trousers and a shirt, he donned them and started towards the balcony, leaving the shirt unlaced.

The night was surprisingly cold, the air heavy. Another starless night. The moon had all the attention it could want tonight. Rune gazed at it, leaning over the railing. Ahead, he could see the silhouette of the Queen behind the white drapes of her window. She was still awake, occupying her desk at this ungodly hour. He then looked down at the guards patrolling the corridors.

All appeared to be in order. The dogs were still howling.

Something chill raised the fine hairs on the back of Rune’s neck. He froze for a moment, drawing a breath. Fisting his hands then, he turned to face the corpse staring at him, waiting for him.

He swallowed, met its eyes, devoid of irises and pupils. Dead.

Its flesh had long rotted, skin the colour of fire ash, bereft of blood.

Rune tightened his jaw. The black Mark on the back of his hand stung.

“I can’t get you what you want,” he told the Dead in a low voice.

Without a response, it vanished. Rune closed his eyes and calmed his breathing. He could never get used to this.

Rubbing his temples to nurse his headache, he returned to bed. The servant boy stirred and mewled in his sleep as he slid closer to Rune’s side, resting his head on Rune’s arm again while the chambermaid’s arm slithered over his abdomen.

* * *

“Is this the best you could find?” Rune groused, glaring at Zelos. The group of recruits watched them with anticipation.

The Captain nervously rolled his shoulders. “It is what I could in such short notice.”

“I would have done better. But it’s  _your_ job, is it not?”

Zelos was grinding his teeth. “With all due respect, sir, they passed the bar, My Lord.”

“Of course,” Rune spat. “If the bar was as low as it was set for you. Dismiss them. Bring me better soldiers. Head out to Lavirtïr. You’ll find some retired soldiers who fought during war times there. Verify that they’re competent enough before you bring them to me.”

Zelos nodded his head and turned to the recruits.

“You’ve been back for less than a day and you are already making everyone here sweat through their clothes,” the Queen commented when she found Rune in the courtyard amidst training guards.

Rune bowed and smiled. “Not everyone, I’m sure, Your Grace.”

Behind her, Prince Garan, his wife, Princess Rowana, and their guards followed, along with Vulred.

“We are heading for the Temples. I was hoping Captain Zelos will accompany us.”

“There are more important matters he must attend to. I’m afraid he cannot, Your Grace.”

Alastríona mirrored Rune’s smirk. “Then will  _you_ , Lord Vanguard?” She knew the answer to that all too well.

Rune glanced at Garan. The boy did not look like a  _boy_  anymore. He was even sporting a beard now. “Your Highness,” he greeted Prince Garan and Princess Rowana.

“Great to have you back, Degenhard,” Garan said, grinning as he clapped a hand on Rune’s shoulder. “Akrowyth never is the same without you.”

Rune scoffed. “So, why to the Temples in the middle of the day?”

“It’s the fourth of Firmoon,” Vulred said, as though it were the most obvious thing in the world.

“Ah,” Rune let out. “The Qehint Prayers.”

“We will join Sehun there. He left early in the morning for the preparations,” the Queen said.

“I still find it incredibly hard to believe that my little brother has become the most pious man in Akrowyth,” Garan remarked with a snort.

“Hardly unbelievable,” Vulred said. “Even as a child, he was enthralled by the Scriptures. Nabooru is also a very religious school. It’s shaped him into a very knowledgeable young man, who’s true to his Gods and Their teachings.”

“Do you think him becoming so devoutly religious is what’s made him this immensely insufferable?”

“Garan,” his mother chided gently. “Do not speak that way of your brother.”

“You cannot deny that he has been annoying you too, Mother. Eight of our servants have already quitted since he arrived. Two more personally implored to scoop up horse shit in the stables than work in the palace any longer.”

Princess Rowana appeared to be disinterested in the argument. She was, indubitably, one of the most alluring Raenythörian women Rune had seen. She was beautiful, a fitting match for Prince Garan, albeit being almost a decade older than the Crown Prince, who was not in any way less prepossessing.

Her long black hair was always braided every time Rune saw her. She was an affluent lord’s only daughter from Hadräze. Rune remembered Lord and Lady Edintale all too well. The late King of Raenythör had frequent visits to Hadräze, where he’d go hunting and get cockeyed with his good friend Lord Edintale. Garan had insisted that he had Lord Edintale’s eldest daughter for a first wife ever since he had laid his eyes upon her as a child. After being engaged for many years, they were finally married for almost a year now.

The Queen turned away from her carping son. “We should ride for the city forthwith. Lord Vanguard, will you come along?”

Rune nodded. “If it is your order, Your Grace.”

* * *

The people gathered around the Temples for the Queen, the streets jubilant with flowers strewn on her path.

The Temples sat at two levels; the Common Temple and the High Temple. The Common Temple, which was located on the ground, was open to the commoners. The High Temple, seated on top of the hill the staircase led to, was only accessible to the members of the monastery and the royal family.

Rune was not particularly fond of the unjust standards. Did the Gods discriminate, too? He was not a religious man, but it did bother him that not even he was permissible into the High Temple.

He ordered the guards to clear the crowd before he dismounted Prymos and pulled the carriage doors open.

The Qehint Prayers were held twice a year to offer the Gods oblations, such as gold, gems, and silks. The poor brought food such as honey and butter as offerings. During the night, there’d be hoedowns and feasts for the commoners. Rune participated in none of them, though he greatly appreciated the free ale.

Once Alastríona, Garan, Rowana and Vulred had exited the carriages, Rune turned to the guards.

“Positions,” he ordered and watched them line up the staircase.

“We’re at the Temples, Rune,” the Queen said quietly with a kind smile. “Not facing a battle.”

“You have to let me do my job, Your Grace,” Rune replied in hushed tones.

Alastríona shook her head, smiling. She then took hold of the amulet around her neck. “I’m hoping the High Priest will be able to have some answers.”

“Answers to what?” Rune asked, frowning.

The Queen did not reply as she started toward the staircase.

“Idaem bitch!”

The expletive came from the crowd, loud and clear. Rune calmly turned around, although his hand was already reaching for his scimitar.

“The Blood Cult worships the true God! This is the end for you Raiganiels! The true God, Daz’gon will rise! Death to you Idaem fucks and to you Raiganiels! Your reign… shall soon be over!”

Rune glanced at Alastríona who had halted on the first step of the staircase, her face wan and ghostly, as though she had witnessed her own death.

A man, clad in a black cloak, sprung from the crowd, vaulting towards the Common Temple with a sabre in his hand. Gasps and screams broke all peace that remained.

“Rune,” Alastríona rasped breathlessly, her wide, petrified eyes gawking at the rogue man intruding the Common Temple, threatening to hurt anyone who dared interfere. Reaching the Statuette of Idaemïr, which stood tall and massive, the rogue raised a foot and stomped on it repeatedly until its base yielded and it began to cant aslant.

The guards started for the rogue before they halted at Rune’s orders to stay and guard the royal family.

Keeping a hand steady around the hilt of his blade, Rune turned on his heel and strode over to the Common Temple. A small part of him wanted the statuette to fall. But he knew it would distress Alastríona and the people for days to come.

“Oh, Lords,” a priest cried, dropping to his knees with fear and tears in his eyes as he pleaded for the Gods’ help.

The rogue swung his sabre at the statuette to fall it once and for all. With a few inches of gap, Rune drew his scimitar and blocked the rogue’s attack. Their blades clashed, and Rune saw the sudden horror in the rogue’s eyes.

“You made a  _terrible_  mistake,” Rune snarled through his teeth and caught the rogue’s wrist before twisting it and disarming the man.

Then grabbing his cloak, Rune rammed his head forward and slammed it into the rogue’s, sending the latter staggering back with a bleeding nose.

“Take him away,” Rune growled at the guards. “Make sure he doesn’t have a good time in the dungeons.”

As the guards arrested him, the man howled, “The Blood Cult will rise! Daz’gon will rise!”

Rune scowled at him. The Blood Cult. Daz’gon. What were those…?

“Lord Vanguard!” one of the guards bellowed and Rune turned his gaze to the tilting statuette.

“No, don’t let it fall!” he heard Alastríona cry. Sheathing his sword at once, Rune caught the statuette as it collapsed against shoulder.

He cursed under his breath, bracing the dead weight of the statuette. As the other men rushed to Rune’s side, the priest halted them.

“Do not lay your hands on the Statuette of Idaemïr unless you wish to go to Hell!” the priest warned them, and the guards retreated at once.

Rune gripped his jaw and barked at the priest. “Don’t touch it, don’t drop it, which is it? Make up your goddamn mind!”

The priest looked at him in shock. “Y-you… You cannot say such things in here.”

“I believe I just did. Where do you want me to put this?” Rune grunted with the statuette braced against his shoulder.

“The base will not hold it. The Temple’s been tainted. We will have to take it to the High Temple. I will fetch all the priests from the High Temple to bear it there.”

“No need. I’ll do it,” Rune spat and began to lift it onto his shoulder.

“But you are committing a sin! You will go to Hell.”

“I’ve already been there and they said ‘no, thank you’. I’m afraid of no Hell,” he said through his grit his teeth, heading for the staircase with the statuette.

“Please, don’t drop it, Rune,” the Queen begged, eyes glistening with tears as he passed her.

Every step was an added torment, an added challenge. The guards circled the royal family as they followed Rune’s every step. His blood was pounding in his ears, he felt his heartbeats in his eyes.

As he neared the High Temple, he could hear the drums and the harps. The prayers, the paeans, the hymns. Beads of sweat trickled down his temples and soaked his uniform. The people watched him in awe. And so did Alastríona.

The gates of the High Temple opened and Rune, for the first time, stepped into the High Temple.

“What has happened?” a priest gasped, and the songs died.

“Sacrilege in the Common Temple,” the other priest informed him.

“Where do you want this?” Rune asked in a struggled voice.

“Here,” another priest said, guiding Rune toward a bed of rock. “Lay it here.”

Settling the statuette down, Rune straightened up and rolled his shoulders back, grimacing when his right shoulder smarted.

As the priests gathered around the statuette, Rune stepped back and glanced around the High Temple. It was not a shoddy hut like the Common Temple. The buildings were considerably large and tall. Bells, candles, and incense sticks were everywhere he turned. Priests in white robes stared at him, as though he were a ghost.

One dropped his gaze to the Death Mark on Rune’s hand and gasped loudly, eyes bulging out. “A Nekrón,” the priest mouthed.

Rune turned to the Queen and bowed his head. “I shall wait for you outside, Your Grace.”

Princess Rowana and Prince Garan both gaped at Rune as wide as the priests.

“Rune,” Alastríona called, looking at him endearingly. “Thank you.”

Rune bowed once more before he started for the entrance.

That was when he received the merciless blow to his face. Before it registered to him that someone had slapped him across the face, he was booted on the chest. He stumbled back a few steps and a hand flung at his face again.

This time he caught it before his own fist flew up to retaliate, but he froze altogether when he met the fierce brown eyes that mirrored Alastríona’s.

Rune released the hand at once and took a few steps back, jaw falling slack as he took in the spitting image of Alastríona, but angrier and taller, with fairer hair and a paler skin.

The furious set of eyes dropped to Rune’s hand. “You let a bloody Nekrón into hallowed ground?!” he shouted at the priests.

Rune blinked several times to make sure that he was looking at what he thought he was looking at.

“Your Grace,” the Common Temple priest said, kneeling before Prince Sehun. “There was an intrusion in the Common Temple. Lord Vanguard saved it from falling and being tainted any further.”

The Prince’s repulsion turned into surprise and he turned to survey Rune from top to toe. “Lord… Vanguard,” he muttered under his breath.

His skin was almost as pale as his long, silver hair that reached the small of his back. He had it tied in half with small lines of braids at the sides and a few locks of strands let loose at the front. His white coat was as elaborate as Garan’s and like his brother, he sported a circlet around his head, though silver embedded with diamonds, while Garan’s was made of gold.

He was leanly-built, but his body was faintly defined with muscles. At his hip hung a silver longsword, which Rune reckoned was the handiwork of Iloqens.

No, Rune must be dreaming. This could not be the little child, who had hopped around the palace full of optimism and giggles.

The spirit of curiosity died in the Prince’s eyes again, replaced by a familiar aversion. “Does not matter,” he spat with disgust. “Will you pray to a statuette tainted by a Nekrón?!”

“Your Grace—” the priest began.

“Sehun,” Alastríona intervened. “You are overreacting.”

The Prince spun around to face his mother. “You might be used to living alongside nihilistic filths, Mother. But some of us still have some honour and faith left.”

The priests fell completely silent and Prince Garan balled his hands into fists.

When the Queen did not respond, Prince Sehun turned to the priests. “Dismantle the statuette. Build a new one. Cleanse the Common Temple,” he ordered. “Down to every brick, if you must.”

“Sehun,” Alastríona croaked.

“Stay out of this, Mother. You’ve done enough by standing by, watching a Nekrón tarnish our Gods.”

That was when Rune stepped towards the Young Prince. “You will not speak to her that way, Prince Sehun. She is still your Queen, so I suggest you—”

Rune halted in his tracks when the Prince drew his longsword with one quick move and held Rune’s throat at swordpoint.

“Back off, old man,” the Prince threatened. There was cockiness in his tone, a faint hint of complacency in the corners of his plush, pink lips. He held the sword steady with precision and virtuosity, like a painter with a brush, but deadly all the same.

“Lord Vanguard, stand down,” the Queen ordered. “It is all right.”

Rune retreated, teeth grinding, jaw locked, and eyes narrowed in animosity.

“Good,” the Prince said and smirked, sheathing his sword again. “Now, did I not give you orders?” he asked the priests, who dispersed at once. “As for the rest of you, we shall begin.”

“Wait outside,” Vulred told Rune disappointedly while the others followed Prince Sehun into the shrine.

Gripping his fists, Rune stormed out of the High Temple.

* * *

As Stydag approached, preparations for the dance had the palace clamouring in every corner. Rune spent most of his time in the barracks, screening guards for the Young Prince, although making efforts to  _protect_  the intolerable Prince was the last thing he wanted to do right now.

Perhaps he was being too harsh. He had only met the Prince once after ten years. It was not fair to judge him based on that first, unfortunate encounter. Nevertheless, Rune was not looking forward to another. It was horrid. Prince Sehun had the eyes of the woman Rune so dearly loved. He could never look at them with contempt.

“These ten will do,” he told Captain Zelos, handing him the list of guards he had appointed. “Assign them to their posts.”

“I will, My Lord,” Zelos said. Rune was briefly distracted by the noise that came from the courtyard.

“What’s going on there?”

Zelos cleared his throat. “I believe it’s a sport, My Lord.”

Rune cocked his brow. “What sport?”

“Wrestling.”

“In the courtyard?”

“The Young Prince invited wrestlers from Akrowyth to… perform for him.”

“You are joking,” Rune let out, glancing in the way of the courtyard again. “I thought the Prince was all about religiousness and holiness and books.”

“Oh, he’s many things.”

How was the Queen allowing this?

Rune ambled into the courtyard and found the palace guards fencing the ring where two burly men were grappling with each other.

Up on a dais, Prince Sehun and Princess Rowana spectated the sport with excited grins plastered on their faces.

“Who’s next?” the Prince called out once one of the two men drove the other into the sand.

“Lord Vanguard’s here!” a guard exclaimed and bowed.

Prince Sehun’s gaze instantly darted to Rune. Under the piercing sun, his hair glimmered like the reflection of star clusters on an unperturbed water surface. His cheeks were a little burned by the sun.

“Ah, Lord Vanguard,” the Prince proclaimed slowly with a smirk. “I was wondering when you’d show up. Will you participate?”

Again, that arrogance. It was strange, seeing such arrogance in those eyes that had only looked back at Rune with endearment and longing.

“Or are you too cowardly for that?” the Prince added. “Can’t fight without your scimitar? What use does that beastlike body of yours have, then?”

Rune scoffed, shaking his head. He bowed to Princess Rowana and walked up to Prince Sehun’s side of the dais. “I will fight whoever you want, Your Grace,” he said. Sehun’s piercing gaze was boring into Rune’s icy blue eyes now. “But can you find another man… man enough to get into that ring with me?”

Prince Sehun’s smile faltered before it completely died. “Strange,” he said instead. “I do not remember much about you. But you certainly didn’t look so slovenly, did you?”

“I suppose my hair’s longer.” Rune shrugged. “So, can you find me a worthy opponent, Your Excellency?”

Sehun shot up from his seat and glared at the strapping wrestler near the ring. “What’s your name?” he asked the wrestler.

“Galondor, Your Grace,” the man said, bowing.

“Galondor will fight you, Lord Vanguard.” The Prince smiled at Rune. It was also a smile he had stolen from his mother.

Rune turned and started towards the ring, keeping his eyes on Galondor, who was almost as big as Rune himself. He steadied his strides as he unbuckled the sword belt and let it drop to the ground before he unbuttoned the coat of black uniform. Taking it off along with his shirt, he entered the ring.

He smirked at Galondor, squaring his shoulders.

“Still not too late to back out,” Rune told his opponent, who sneered at him.

“You take the words out of my mouth—no disrespect, Lord Vanguard,” Galondor said.

“This ought to be fun,” Rune muttered to himself and glanced at Prince Sehun. He stopped for a moment when he caught the Prince leering down his shirtless body like a hunter ready to loosen his bowstring.

When the Prince lifted his gaze and realized that Rune had caught him looking, it was too late.

Scowling, Sehun waved his fingers and commenced the fight.

Rune stood his ground as Galondor broke into a sprint towards him. With a distance less than a foot between them, Rune’s hand flung up to clutch at Galondor’s bullneck and with a swift move, he lifted the man from the ground and dragged him down, slamming him against the ground.

The crowd hissed. Then they began to cheer.

“Lord Vanguard! Lord Vanguard! Lord Vanguard!”

“Fuck!” Rune grunted when Galondor grabbed a handful of sand and hurled it at his eyes, blinding him momentarily.

Struggling to blink his eyes and clear his vision, Rune stumbled back before a stomp on his abdomen sent him to the ground.

A foot pressed down on his neck, cutting his supply of air. Another blow to his face. Then a kick. A stomp. Rune clenched his eyes tightly as the crowd cheered louder. His hands were clawing at Galondor’s shin, struggling to breathe.

The Death Mark stung then. A numbing pain that brought Rune to a momentary abyss of darkness where he did not have to breathe to stay alive.

 _“Come find me, Rune,”_  he heard a distant voice in the darkness. A man. Unfamiliar. It was not Hergroc from his nightmares.

His eyes flashed open and he curled his left hand around his opponent’s leg. With newfound strength, he forced the foot off his throat and lobbed Galondor over him, tossing him to the sand. He looked down at the Mark and found it glowing like a shined silver. It went out immediately, however, and Rune returned his attention to his opponent.

Driving his knee into the man’s abdomen, he spun around and elbowed Galondor in the face before grabbing the back of his neck with both hands and yanked him over his shoulder.

Smashing him to the ground, Rune raised a booted foot to Galondor’s heaving chest. The latter yielded, lifting his hands up to concede defeat.

Rune looked over to Prince Sehun, panting for air. Stepping over Galondor then, he climbed out of the ring and picked up his scimitar and clothes, brushing off the sand that was stuck to the sweat on his body.

The Prince looked mesmerized with a slight tinge of annoyance.

“Your Grace,” Rune let out and bowed before striding away, lacing his shirt up and staring at the back of his hand.

* * *

When the evening fell, Rune found himself knocking on the doors of the Queen’s chambers.

“You may come in, Rune,” she said from the other side of the door. She could always tell when it was Rune at her door.

He cleared his throat and entered the chambers, closing the doors behind him.

Alastríona rose from her desk and threw a heart-crushing smile in Rune’s way. “What brings you here at this hour?” she asked.

“The guards for tomorrow’s dance have been assigned, Your Grace,” he told her, lowering his head curtly.

“Great.” Her voice sounded dull. “Anything else?”

Rune rubbed the back of his neck and stepped a few steps closer to the Queen. “Your… I mean, Young Prince Sehun… He’s…”

Alastríona smiled dejectedly. “I know,” she breathed out. “But trust me, Rune. He has a good heart. I… can see it.”

Rune swallowed. “I trust you… Alastríona. He’s  _your_  son. Could not be all that bad.” He tried to return the Queen’s smile.

She looked fatigued. Rune was not sure if the dance was troubling her or if Prince Sehun’s return was or… if it were something completely different.

“Is something the matter?” Rune decided to ask.

The Queen hesitated to respond. She turned her back to Rune to gaze out her window.

Rune approached her calmly. “Alastríona,” he called in a quiet voice. “If there’s something bothering your peace, I need you to let me know. I will do all in my power to—”

“I know you will, Rune,” she cut him off and turned around. Rune felt his heart skip a beat. “But I do not think it’s anything you can help with. I’m not sure… anyone can. This might all just be my imagination.” She massaged her temples, exhaling heavily. She then wrapped her hand around the Amulet of Idaemïr. “You should go.”

Rune dipped his head in obeisance and started back for the door. But he paused and turned back to the Queen.

“I have to ask you this,” he said, and the Queen looked up at him again. “I’ve been serving you for twenty years, Alastríona. Will you… ever stop looking at me like I’m just your… servant?”

Her face wilted as her eyes glistened. “If you haven’t noticed that I have never looked at you that way, perhaps  _you_  haven’t really looked at  _me_ , Rune.”

Rune stood silent for a moment. Then he said, “Why can’t we—”

“We just can’t,” she said sternly. “I suggest you go now.”

Rune licked his lips and bowed his head before taking his leave. He didn’t stop until he had reached his bedchamber and slammed the door shut.

“Lord Vanguard,” Princess Rowana gasped as she jolted up from the chaise longue.

“Princess,” Rune said, astounded by her sudden visit. Actually, she had never been in his quarters. “What are you doing here?”

“I… I wanted to congratulate you on your victory today,” she said with a nervous smile.

Rune’s eyebrows furrowed in bafflement. “Oh… You needn’t come all the way here for that. You could have had me summoned.”

“It’s not just that.” She gnawed at her red lip and crossed the room. “Prince Sehun was… very unjust to you. He should not have slighted you the way he did at the Temples.”

Rune stared at the Princess. “I’m not…” he trailed off as she neared him, lifting a hand to his chest.

“No one here rewards you for the man you truly are,” she whispered, splaying her fingers over his chest, hooking them around the laces of his shirt. She lightly tugged at them, unlacing her own bodice with the other hand at the same time.

It took Rune a moment to process the situation, the keen avidity that swam in Rowana’s dark eyes.

He seized her wrist. “You need to stop, Your Highness,” he said. “I’m not like that.”

She smiled complacently and withdrew her wrist from Rune’s grip. “Of course, you are. All men are.” She dropped her hand to Rune’s belt. Rune’s gaze lowered to his left hand and he gawked at the glowing Death Mark.

His eyes darted to the open doors of the balcony. Too dark. Too quiet. He remembered leaving the balcony doors closed in the morning. He raised his left hand and stared at the Mark again. Clearly, the Princess was not aware of the glowing Mark.

“You want this, don’t you, Lord Vanguard?” she purred, brushing her lips on his bearded jaw.

Rune kept his eyes on the balcony. Then the mirror. The under the bed. He closed his eyes.

_“Find me, Rune.”_

As his eyes flew open, he caught Rowana’s hand that was drawing his scimitar from its sheath. “What are you doing?”

“Attending you tonight, Lord Vanguard,” she exhaled, tiptoeing to press a light kiss on Rune’s lips.

_“Fight.”_

Rune’s hand sprung up to grip Rowana’s neck, but she retreated, yanking his scimitar out of its sheath. With the sword now in her hand, she smiled.

“What a fool. Men.” She scoffed, and as Rune lunged at her, palls of black smoke and shadows exploded out of nowhere in the darkness of the chamber before three men appeared, all clad in black cowls and masks with black sabres in their hands.

“Daz’gon will rise.” With that Rowana vanished in an eruption of black smoke.

Rune ducked to the side as one of the masked men charged at him, slicing through the door instead of Rune’s head. He grabbed the intruder’s arm and twisted it, plunging his fist repeatedly into the masked man’s face before he released the man to block the attack of another. He booted the assailant in the stomach and swung a kick to a side of his head, slamming him against the wall. Then picking up the candleholder, Rune smashed its base on the sideboard. With the sharper edge, he drove the candleholder towards the attacker’s head but before he could succeed, the man burst into a cloud black smoke and vanished.

“Argh!” he cried, dodging the blow. He spun around with a kick and disarmed the assailant, who immediately disappeared along with his sabre. Faced with the last attacker, Rune lurched forward, but before he could land a punch, the masked intruder disappeared, too.

Rune took a moment to regain his composure and breaths, sobbing for air. What was happening…

Who could possibly want to attack him? Was this just another one of his nightmares? Princess Rowana? She was a part of this.  _Daz’gon will rise…_

Why would she want Rune dead? No. They did not kill him. They weren’t trying to kill him. If they weren’t here to kill him, what were they here for?

Rune froze for a fraction of a second before he sprung up to his feet and burst out of the chambers. His heart thundered in his throat as he raced to the Queen’s chambers as fast as his feet could carry him with every ounce of strength he had left.

“Guards!” he yapped but the hallways were empty.

_No, no, no!_

As soon as he reached the Queen’s quarters, he charged into her chambers and halted dead in his tracks, completely out of breath, bathed in sweat.

All that he could hear was his own heartbeat. Slowly dying.

His head pounded as he forced himself to move and drag his feet to the pool of blood on the floor.

He dropped to his knees and stared at Alastríona’s lifeless body. Her brown eyes, once filled with life and love, now dead and cold. The blood flowing out of her mouth was as fresh as the one oozing out of her neck. The Amulet of Idaemïr was missing.

Rune raised his eyes to look at his scimitar driven through the Queen’s throat. He curled his hand around the grip of his scimitar and drew it out of Alastríona’s neck. Blood gushed and soaked Rune’s shirt as he collected her in his arms and cradled her head against his chest.

“No,” he croaked out, voice thick with sob. “Please…” The tears betrayed his eyes as they began to stain his face uncontrollably. “Please, please, please.” He sobbed, brushing his lips to her forehead. “Please… I love you.”

The guards flooded in along with Vulred, Prince Garan, and Prince Sehun.

“Mother!” Rune heard Prince Sehun crying.

“Arrest him!” he then heard Prince Garan ordering the guards. “Arrest the bastard!”

Rune hugged her to his body and wept, cupping a side of her head in his hand. He did not fight the guards who tore him away from her and shackled his wrists. He was brought down to his knees before Prince Garan, and the last thing he registered through the thick, unassailable sorrow and grief was the brutal blow to his head that blacked him out.

 

 

* * *

 

# C H A P T E R   T W O

 

As the black receded and the nothingness ebbed, his eyes opened to the vast, endless grey. Rune gasped, looking down at the floating rock he stood on.

“Alongside enemies you walk, Rune Degenhard,” came a voice, as waveless as the air. There was no wind, no sky, no ground.

Rune turned around, searching for the source of the voice. It was a familiar voice. “Who are you?” he demanded through his teeth, hand flinging up to grab his scimitar, only to realize that it was missing.

The image of his sword driven through Alastríona’s throat flashed before his eyes. He clenched them shut.

“Grief,” the voice said. “is a pain like no other, is it not?”

Rune’s eyes flashed open once more. “Who are you?” he asked again. “Where am I? Am I,” he said, glancing around him. “dreaming? Am I dead?”

“No,” the voice replied. It sounded distant and in the vicinity of his reach at the same time. “But you are about to be.”

Rune panted hard, looking around in frenzy while keeping himself steady on the limited expanse of the floating rock. He closed his eyes and took another breath.

“What do you mean?” he asked quietly.

“They are about to execute you,” the voice told him.

He thought of Alastríona, withering in his arms. What was once warm and pristine now cold and bloodied. A wilted flower could never be brought back to its vigour and colour. The only purpose he had to live, now obliterated, leaving him numb and empty.

Grief  _was_  indeed a pain like no other.

“Let them,” he said, choking on a sob. He had no purpose left. He did not care.

“No. Your time has come and passed. You have foiled Hergroc and death. If you believe your purpose ends here, you are wrong, Rune Degenhard. You’ve yet a promise to keep, recall it.”

Rune opened his eyes and looked down at the back of his left hand. The Death Mark glowed fiercely.

_You must protect Garan and Sehun before me._

_I solemnly pledge my allegiance to the monarch of the Kingdom of Raenythör as the Vanguard of the house Raiganiel._

_Protect Garan and Sehun._

_The only hope Raenythör has left._

_The realm will crumble. Discord will be inevitable without a Raiganiel on the throne. The power void will destroy all peace, giving rise to evil._

Rune clenched his teeth, glaring at his Mark. “What is the meaning of this? Tell me who you are! You were the one who told me to come find you. You knew what was going to happen…”

“Telling you who I am is not going to save your neck from the block and the headsman. Do not die, Rune. Save yourself by any means necessary. You cannot die now.”

The voice faded, hurling Rune back into the abyss of stillness.

The airlessness stifled him to wake. Opening his eyes to the dark and dampness, he lifted his heavy head and groaned at the searing throbbing on a side of his head. Blinking his eyes to clear the blurry vision, he looked up at the bars.

Cursing under his breath, he pushed himself up to his feet and tottered to the locked gate. He gazed ahead at the opposite cell and found a prisoner grinning at him, flashing all of his rotten teeth.

“What’d you do, Lord Vanguard?” he asked, giggling. “What’d you do?”

As he lifted his hands, Rune noticed the weight around his wrists. Shackles. He then curled his hands around the cold rods before looking at the blood caking beneath his fingernails and staining his palms.

“Alastríona,” he let out in a raspy whisper, a lump rising in his throat. Blood and death, he had been acquainted with, but none of those were of his beloveds. He realized he had never cared for anyone in his life as he did for his Queen.

“Did you steal something?” the prisoner snickered. “No, no. They would not have thrown the mighty  _Lord_  Vanguard in here for a crime so petty. What’d you do? Did you kill someone? Did you rape an important woman? ”

Rune swallowed hard, taking a step back from the bars.

_“You cannot die now.”_

“That Mark,” another voice said, coming from another cell. Rune glanced at it and found the shadow of a man, settled on the floor, leaning against a wall. “It’s the Death Mark, isn’t it?”

Rune took a closer look and recognized the man. The rogue from the temple.

“Do you think you are serving the right side?” The man scoffed. “You have died and seen the Diminisher. There is no greater honour. A Nekrón like you should worship the true God.”

“You’re a worshipper of… Daz’gon,” Rune said. “The people who killed her… they were… too.” His throat was tight with anguish.

“The Blood Cult,” the man said. “Craiweth. That’s where you need to go.”

“What is in Craiweth?”

“Daz’gon. Your answer.”

He heard footsteps approaching his cell. The mad prisoner cackled, hopping in his cell, clapping his hands in exhilaration.

“You’re going to die, Vanguard!” he exclaimed.

Rune felt his heart hammer against his chest. He glanced down at the Mark on his hand. It was no longer glowing.

A couple of guards came into sight. Rune tried to calm his breathing, grinding his teeth.

“Open it,” he heard Prince Garan say before he made an appearance behind the guards. At side, Prince Sehun followed, eyes red and viciously outraged. He kept a firm grip on his silver longsword.

As the guards fumbled with the keys, Rune held his ground, his shackled hands balled into fists.

The guards drew the swords as they entered, barricading the princes.

Garan looked up at Rune with an indifferent expression. “Because you have committed crimes against the house Raiganiel,” the Crown Prince began in a thick, wavering voice, “and dishonoured your oaths, you are dismissed as the Vanguard of the house Raiganiel and are sentenced to a public execution without a trial.”

With that, he turned to the guards.

“Drag him out,” he ordered the guards before stomping away without another word.

 _“Do something. Don’t die, Rune Degenhard,”_  he heard the voice say.

Rune glanced at Prince Sehun, who was looking daggers at him, hand gripping his longsword tighter.

“How could you?” the Prince then asked in a barely audible voice, his reddened eyes glassy with fresh tears. “We… trusted you.  _I_ … trusted you.”

Rune blinked at him.

“You were… family,” he added shakily. “I want to know.”

When he stepped forward, the guards halted him. “Your Grace,” one of them objected. “You shouldn’t—”

“Step aside,” Sehun growled at him. Shoving past the guards, he stopped a foot before Rune. “Why?” he asked. “Why did you betray her? Why did you… kill her? Why…  _now_  when you’ve had all those years at her side to do it?”

Rune let his eyes bore into Sehun’s for a moment. The Young Prince did not look away. When Rune did not give him the answers he needed, the dainty hand of a well-read struck a side of his face. Rune flinched, gritted his teeth and looked back at the Young Prince’s flaring eyes.

“You are observant, aren’t you?” he told Sehun quietly. The Prince stood still, his hand that had jabbed Rune in the face still held tightly in a fist. “You are clever. You know that I didn’t do it.”

Sehun drew his sword and held its tip to Rune’s throat. “I will kill you, bastard.”

Rune heaved a deep breath. “You know it,” he said. “I didn’t do it. But I know who did. No one will believe me if I told.”

“Why should _I_ believe you, then?” he spat.

“Because you knew that I loved her,” Rune said in a breath. “Because you are wise enough to strike the difference between the silence of a grieving man and that of a guilty man.”

Sehun’s anger faltered. He looked confused now, brows crinkled as he lowered his sword and dropped his eyes to the ground, blinking tentatively.

Rune closed the distance between them. “Prince Sehun,” he called in a whisper. Sehun raised his head to meet his eyes. “I didn’t do it. I’ve been framed. And I know by whom. Unless I’m alive, I will not be able to stop the inevitable. Your mother felt it coming. Your brother is in danger.  _You_  are in danger. Without the Raiganiels, Raenythör is at peril, its peace threatened.”

Sehun wordlessly stared at him for a length before he withdrew and sheathed his sword. “No one can save you from your fate now. Garan will see you to your death,” he said and turned on his heel, walking away.

Rune’s breathing shallowed as he looked at the hesitant guards.

“Come on, then,” one of them spat. “Walk.”

When Rune did not budge, he called for the other guards.

Zelos stepped into the cell with his sword drawn, glaring in Rune’s way. “Don’t make this any more difficult than it already is,” he told Rune.

Rune stared at the man. “Do you believe that I did it?” he asked.

It took Zelos a moment to reply and when he did, it was with reluctance. “It does not matter what I think. The entire realm believes that you did it.” He caught hold of the chain linking the shackles around Rune’s wrists. “They’re saying you are with the Blood Cult. And your,” he paused to look down at the Mark. “Death Mark does not make a convincing case to plead otherwise.”

“Zelos,” Rune said, frowning.

He did not get a reply as the Captain began to tug at the shackles, yanking Rune out of the cell. A few more guards gathered around him, one of them shoving him forward to walk.

Rune was not sure which depressed him more; the fact that the only woman he ever loved was murdered or the fact the world now believed that he had done it.

“Rowana,” Rune told Zelos as he was dragged up the dungeon stairs. “She did it, Zelos. She was part of it. She… took my scimitar and framed me.”

The Captain came to a stop to turn around and scowl at him. “I hope you are hearing yourself. We have pretexts for everyone but you. Princess Rowana was with Prince Garan the entire night.”

“That is not true,” Rune growled. “She was in my quarters and… there were others. She was behind this.”

Zelos shook his head. “Whatever you say will not save your neck now. I’m… sorry.” He turned his back to Rune again and marched forth.

Rune tightened his fists. He then looked to the guards’ swords. Even if he managed to break free from them, he would not make it past the gates of the palace. They’d shoot him down with crossbows before he could even reach them.

 _How_ , he wondered desperately.  _How do I get out of this?_

He needed to stay alive to defend the peace of the kingdom, to protect everything Alastríona and her forebears had instituted. Including the princes. He had made a promise to her keep them safe with his life.

He looked at this Death Mark again.  _Come on. Help me._

He heard the discord of voices as he neared the bailey. Almost all of Akrowyth had gathered for his execution. He squinted at the blinding sun as the guards cleared the path.

“Murderer!” someone cried through the cacophony.

“Traitor!” another yelled.

“Chop the bastard’s head off!”

“Monster!”

These people believed that he had killed the woman he loved. Head hung and heart in his mouth, Rune followed the guards and Zelos through the throng of crying, lamenting, and wrathful people. It was not the first time Rune underwent a shock of humiliation from the common folk. He was born into that humiliation. But after being titled as the Vanguard to the potentate of Akrowyth, he had believed he would never have to eat crow again. And now, he here was, losing his face and honour to a crime he did not commit.

When he looked up, his gaze landed on the platform where the block was seated and at its side stood the hooded headsman with an axe in his hands.

On the balcony that overlooked the bailey, Prince Garan, Vulred, and Princess Rowana spectated the crowd. Rune clenched his jaw.

He blenched hard when a flung rock struck a side of his head and winced as warm blood trickled down his temple.

“Demon! Hergroc’s whore!” a commoner bayed.

“You will not escape death this time, Nekrón!”

The sun scorched everything its rays touched. The crowd cheered for his death. The very ground beneath his feet quaked with rage.

He was dragged up the steps of the platform.

“Zelos,” he muttered again, looking at the Captain despondently. Upon realizing that this was his fate, he said, “Don’t trust her. And… I’m sorry for… treating you ill and… she cared about you a lot.”

Zelos’ expression dulled further.

The guards jerked Rune towards the block. He took in the crowd, heartbeat quickening as he lowered to his knees.

Then he felt a boot on the back of his head, pressing it forward. Placing his neck on the block, he drew a breath and closed his eyes.

He heard the headsman shift.

 _Hergroc…_  He would not survive Him this time.

The headsman swung. Rune thought of Alastríona. Her smile, her kindness, the only purpose Rune ever had in life. If this was his fate, then he’d soon be at her side once more.

The crowd went silent. The headsman’s breathing was all that Rune heard now apart from his own heartbeat.

The head-splitting clang that followed came out of nowhere and Rune’s eyes flashed open to the silver longsword obstructing the headsman’s axe that was only inches away from Rune’s neck.

“Sehun!” Prince Garan roared from the balcony.

Gasping for air, Rune looked up at the Prince, his long silver hair swaying to the warm breeze.

“What do you think you’re doing?!” Garan yapped as the crowd broke into murmurs and gasps.

Shoving the axe away, Sehun fisted Rune’s shirt by the shoulder and yanked Rune up to his feet.

“Brother,” Prince Sehun called. “I do not think he did it.”

More gasps.

Prince Garan scowled. “I do not care what you think, Sehun,” he spat. “He killed our mother!”

“What if he didn’t?” Sehun argued, gazing up at the balcony. “For a trained Vanguard, he would have had many other ways to kill her. Ways that would not have brought him to the block. He’s been by her side all these years. What if he is  _not_  guilty? Would you punish an innocent man?”

Garan fell quiet for a moment. He nervously glanced at the crowd then at Sehun, and then at Rune. “Do you plead guilty?” he asked Rune.

“This isn’t a trial, Your Grace,” Vulred said at his side.

Garan lifted a hand to silence him. “I know. But I want to hear. Do  _you_ , Rune Degenhard, plead guilty?”

Rune swallowed before speaking. “I do not, Your Grace,” he said.

The Prince’s eyes bulged out. “You are saying that you did not do it? It was  _your_  scimitar that had slain the Queen.  _You_  were the last to have been in her quarters.”

“I do not deny those claims,” Rune said, loud and firm. “But I did not do it. It was… the Blood Cult. I was attacked last night.”

Sehun stared at Rune then.

“I was… too late when I got to her,” Rune added, lowering his eyes. “Prince Garan, I had not done it.”

The Prince looked conflicted, eyebrows knitted in contemplation. “Be that the truth,” he said at length. “the evidences are against your word.”

“Brother,” Prince Sehun interjected again, but he was stopped by Garan.

“Stay out of this, Sehun,” he rebuked. “You are a child. You know nothing.”

Rowana by him held a calm face, eyes fixated on her husband.  _Queen_ Rowana.

“Hold a trial!” Sehun exclaimed. “Brother, hold a trial.”

“No,” Garan said sternly with a finality in his tone. “Proceed.” He beckoned to the headsman.

That was when Zelos lunged at Sehun and held his sword to Sehun’s neck. “Stop!” Garan ordered the guards who charged after Zelos.

“I don’t want to hurt him,” the Captain said. “But I will.”

Sehun froze, the sword in his hand steady. He did not flinch at the blade held to his neck.

“Release him,” Zelos demanded, jerking his chin in Rune’s way. When Prince Garan did not issue an order, he pressed the sword into Sehun’s neck. Garan gripped the balcony railing.

“Don’t harm him,” he then rasped. Looking up at the guards with the crossbows in the tower, he said, “Do not shoot! Stand down!” He shook his head disappointedly. “My idiot brother… Release his shackles.”

A guard stepped forward and unlocked Rune’s shackles. Freed from them, Rune seizing the longsword from Prince Sehun’s hand.

“Our horses,” Rune demanded.

The Crown Prince ordered the guards to fetch Rune his horse.

“I will return, King Garan,” Rune said. “I will return with my reprisal and the real murderer.” His eyes briefly wandered to Rowana, who was rubbernecking at him with a spooked expression.

“For your sake, don’t, Degenhard,” Garan spat through his teeth. “Because I will kill you myself if you do.”

The crowd made way for Prymos and Zelos’ horse. This was the right way out. But this was the only way out.

Climbing off the platform, Rune took hold of the horses’ reins and starts toward the drawbridge. Zelos followed, keeping his sword tight against Prince Sehun’s neck. He was putting not only Sehun in danger but also Zelos. There was no other way, Rune persuaded himself. He would not be much good to anyone if he were dead.

“You cannot let them get away,” he heard Princess Rowana say to her husband, who kept mum.

The crowd, the guards, Garan and everyone else watched them leave. Surprisingly, Prince Sehun did not put up much of a fight either.

* * *

He reined Prymos to a halt when they reached the beaches on the skirts of the city at sundown. His boots thudded against the damp sand when he dismounted and strutted over to the shoreline. Crouching, he cupped up a handful of saltwater before splashing it on his face.

Pausing for a stretch, he caught his breath, eyeing the receding breakers while the seawater dripped from his beard and trickled down his neck. Then he dropped his gaze to the Death Mark on his hand.

_Craiweth…_

“Get up,” he heard the Young Prince’s command from behind, a sword’s tip pressing into the back of his head. Heaving a big breath, he pulled himself up and turned around to see the silver-haired Prince glaring at him, holding the sword to his chest.

He briefly glanced to his horse’s saddlebags from which the Prince must have retrieved the silversword Rune had pried from him earlier. Zelos had dismounted his horse and was standing idly by it, keeping his hands clasped at his back. Rune’s eyebrows furrowed. He looked back at the Prince.

“This was _your_ doing?” he said to Prince Sehun.

The Young Prince took a step closer, thrusting the sword forward. “A Nekrón could only outsmart death by luck so many times,” the boy said through his teeth.

“You believe me, then,” Rune said. “That I didn’t do it.”

The Prince pursed his lips and looked daggers at the taller, older man.

“I would hate to break up this quarrel,” said Zelos, who advanced toward them. “But we ought to find a less unsecure and open location before the guards catch up to us.”

Rune did not tear his gaze away from Prince Sehun’s. Then with one swift movement of his hand, he gripped the blade of the sword and disarmed the Prince. Flipping the sword, he caught the grip of it in his hand.

Although Sehun glowered and looked surprised, he did not retreat.

“You,” Rune spat, holding the sword out at Zelos now. “You refused to break me free, but you did it anyway because he ordered you to?”

Zelos swallowed. “It was more of a collaboration, My Lord. I could not have helped you if it hadn’t been for His Royal Highness.”

“Well, His Royal Highness is going back.” He lowered the sword and brushed past the Prince to get back to his horse.

“I do not think so,” growled Sehun. “You listen to me, Nekrón. I’m your Prince. And you don’t get to order me around.”

Rune stopped in his tracks and turned around. “No. Out here, you’re a liability.”

“If it weren’t for me, your head will be rolling in a basket right now,” he said hostilely. Rune relaxed. “So, I suggest you drop the vanity and then to your knees to thank me. I’m not going anywhere until you prove yourself. And if you’re lying, I will take your life myself and return to my brother with your head.”

He watched the breeze rifle through the Prince’s hair as the hues of the sunset danced between the silver strands.

“If I may speak, My Lord,” Zelos began.

“No, you may not,” Rune silenced him. “You were supposed to guard the princes. Not drag one into danger and leave the other in _another_ sort of danger.”

Zelos licked his lips. “My Lord. I saw no other way. And if what you said was the truth, then sending His Grace back there would only put him in more danger.”

“What are you talking about?” the Young Prince demanded. Zelos looked to Rune nervously. “You said you didn’t do it and you knew who did. So, who was it?”

Rune briefly revisited the horrid memories of holding Alastríona in his arms as she laid there, cold and lifeless. He clenched his eyes and fists. When he opened them again, he was met with the dead ringer of the woman he had loved.

 “Zelos is right,” Rune then said. “We must get out of here first. The longer we remain in the city, the sooner I lose my head.”

Sticking the silversword back in one of the saddlebags, he swung himself up onto Prymos’ back and took hold of the reins. He then glanced down at the boy, who was louring at him, unblinking. Through the storming emotions, Rune wondered where the sweet, innocent boy, who was always running around the palace, asking people to tell him stories, had gone. Now, in his place, a pious, arrogant cynic was glaring back at him.

“You’re not riding with me,” said Rune.

The Prince’s youthful face scrunched up in a grimace. “You’re a servant. And you’re the Lord Vanguard. Your duty is to protect the monarch.”

“My duties were terminated a while ago when I was relieved of my position as Lord Vanguard. I no longer _serve_ to protect you, Your Highness. You want to tag along? You can ride with your dear old cousin over there, who was just advocating for your stay.”

That vexed the Prince. He opened his mouth to retaliate.

“You can ride with me again, Your Grace,” Zelos interrupted.

 After pinning Rune with another spiteful glower, the Prince stomped over to Zelos and mounted the horse before the Captain straddled behind the boy.

* * *

They rode hard, taking the road that struck westwards, leaving the City of Akrowyth behind as the nightfall darkened their path. Rune took note of the fires in the two towers as they rode past the borders of the city that were lighted to pay homage on the account of the late Queen’s interment. He tried to give no thought to the stabbing pain in his heart that was extant for the rest of the night. He could not be there at her side to say his last goodbyes.

At sunup, they arrived at the Woodlands, the land the stretched out on the other side of the City of Akrowyth. At their backs, the city was a faded picture. Before them, was the vast expanse of grass, forests and dirtroads that were frequented by travellers and vagrants.

Rune reined Prymose toward the roadside inn when he spotted one. _The Scary Jackals Inn_ , he read off the wooden signboard that was hanging outside, swaying to the wind’s forces.

Jumping off the horse, Rune quickly hitched Prymos to horse post and turned to Zelos, who was struggling to rein his horse to a halt with the Young Prince leaning against him, sleeping.

Rune made a face. “Wake him up,” he snapped at Zelos.

“I don’t know how to, My Lord,” the Captain whispered.

It was bad enough that Rune was now a convict, framed for a murder he did not commit. Not to mention it was due to his lack of attention that had he lost the woman he loved and the Queen of Raenythör. Now, he had to babysit her son.

As much as he tried to convince himself that Sehun’s being here would inconvenience him and hinder his objectives to find proof that Rowana was behind Alastríona’s murder, a part of him was at peace, knowing the Young Prince was safe and in his circle of protection.

“Why do you mean you don’t know how to?”

Zelos frowned. “I’ve never had to wake up a member of monarchy before.”

Rune groaned and reached up to grab Sehun’s arm to shake him awake. The Prince stirred slightly before he cracked his eyes open. He squinted at the brightness and slowly turned his drowsy gaze to the callused hand wrapped around his slim arm.

As those haunting brown eyes rose to look at Rune, a scowl took form on the Prince’s dipped dark brows. He yanked his arm free and swung it.

It took Rune a moment to register the backhand that struck a side of his face out of nowhere. Zelos gasped.

“How dare you lay your hand on me, Nekrón,” the boy grated. He then looked back at Zelos who was gaping in disbelief.

“Not even a finger of mine touched you once, I swear!” he blurted out quickly, holding his hands up.

Sehun rolled his eyes and swung the leg over to the other side before dismounting the horse. He confronted Rune next, hands clenched at his sides. “I am a member of the sacred sect of Idaemïr. You are a filth the cursed Diminisher rejected. I’m a Prince, you’re a servant. And until you prove to me that you are innocent,” he spat. “you are still the murderer who killed my mother.”

Rune ran his tongue along the inside of his cheek. The backhand hadn’t caused him any pain. But it came as a shock all the same. He had been serving the royal family for many years. And not once had anyone from the family ever raised a hand to him. To think that the boy, who used to look at him with adoration and reverence, had just dared whack him on the face… Rune tried to calm himself with a few deep breaths and a reminder of who this boy was. And whose eyes those were.

He turned around and stomped back to Prymos, gnashing his teeth. “Sheathe this,” he said, handing the silversword back to its owner.

The Prince seized hold of it at once. Rune slinked back when he heard two drunkards stagger out of the inn, singing songs.

Then fishing out a cloak from the saddlebag, he pulled it on and drew the cowl over his head. “Get rid of your uniform,” he ordered Zelos, who quickly removed his coat and belt that carried the crest of the monarch.

“What about him?” the Captain asked, eyeing Sehun.

“He’s not known well enough around here,” Rune said but scowled at Sehun’s hair. “But that hair and that fancy overcoat are a dead giveaway.”

“Your Grace, you should remove your… embellished overcoat and do something about your hair,” Zelos told his much younger cousin.

And as Rune foresaw it, the Prince adamantly refused to accept Rune’s orders. “I will not strip before you two,” he spat.

“You are not naked underneath,” Rune snarled. “You will get all three of us caught if you walked in there, donning all this finery.”

Sehun’s eyebrows knotted annoyedly. But he did not argue back. For a few seconds at least. “Why have we stopped here, anyway?! Is this where the murderer is? At _The Scary Jackals_?!”

“No. But if we’re going to Craiweth, we’re going to need some rest and food before that,” Rune said, holding back his temper. “But if you’d rather go on without rest, that can be managed, too. Although I highly doubt your pious bottom could ride anything for that long.”

The Young Prince’s eyes widened. For a beat, Rune thought the boy was cocking up another slap for him. “Why are we going to Craiweth? That wasn’t the discussed plan.”

“There was _no_ plan discussed,” growled Rune. “Look. You can either trust me and do as I say, or you can walk back to the city and tell the first guard you see where I am.”

If eyes could burn souls, Sehun’s definitely would have. What stumped Rune more was the ferocity that often lacked in Alastríona’s eyes was ample in her second son’s.

But the Young Prince sheathed the silversword before he started unlacing his overcoat. Rune turned away to tighten the horse’s reins around the post.

“I do have a cloak you could use to cover your head, Your Grace,” Zelos said as he pulled out one from his horse’s saddlebag. “I don’t think anyone would recognize _me_ this far from the city.”

When Rune glanced back at the boy, Sehun discarded his overcoat and brushed at the creases on his black tunic. He still stood out like a sore thumb.

“That?” Sehun said, sneering at the cloak Zelos was holding out to him. “It’s filthy.”

“It’s either that or we cut your hair off. Thoughts?” Rune said. The Prince shot him a black look.

“Fine.” He wrenched the cloak from Zelos’ hands and pulled it over his shoulders and head.

“Keep your head down and try not to attract any attention,” Rune told them as he started toward the inn. When Zelos came to his side, he said, “Feeling a little chummy with your cousin back there?”

“My Lord?”

“Your job from now on is to keep an eye on him for as long as he’s with us,” Rune commanded him under his breath. “Wherever he goes, you go. When I tell you to get him to safety, you do that. Am I understood?”

“Yes, Lord Vanguard.”

Rune clenched his jaw. “Drop the _Lord_. I’m just Rune Degenhard now.”

The _just_ Rune Degenhard he had been before joining the Queen’s Guard twenty years ago. He was only seventeen then.

Zelos bowed his head with a hint of sympathy in his eyes. “For what it’s worth, I do believe what you say, My Lor—” He cut himself short as they stopped before the doors of the inn. “I mean, Rune.”

“Don’t say that my name out loud, though,” Rune muttered and turned to look at the Young Prince, who was trailing behind them with his head hung low. “You.”

Sehun raised his head, eyes still glaring at Rune.

“You don’t utter a word unless I tell you to.”

“I don’t have to listen to a perpetrator,” Sehun yapped back.

Rune rolled his eyes and turned to Zelos. “Keep the boy in line.” With that order, he entered the noisy inn. Zelos and Prince Sehun followed.

The tables were teeming with the drunk. Large, boorish sots, far from the mores of the City of Akrowyth, sat on the benches and sang songs, quaffing ale with no control, harassing the barkeeping girls. Dirt, muck, and ale stuck to the ground in the dismal, dreary inn.

“To the fallen Queen!” a man drawled loudly, holding his tankard of ale up. The other men cheered. “She was a good one.” They knocked back the drink in unison. “Bring me more ale, girl!” The man slapped a barkeeping girl’s ass.

Rune glanced around for the innkeeper. When he spotted her on the other side of the counter, he marched up to her. As she saw him approach, her eyes largened slightly. Rune almost considered turning around, but then she opened her smiling mouth.

“It’s not every day a man of your size walks into _The Scary Jackals_ ,” she said, leaning over the counter. Her gaze then darted past Rune to land on Zelos and the recoiling boy hiding in the cloak.

“It must be your lucky day, then,” Rune told the innkeeper, gathering her attention again.

The woman smirked. “It must be.” She slid a hand over the counter. “What can I get you? A table? A room? Some… fun?” She tapped her fingers on the wood.

Had it been under any other circumstances, Rune would have entertained her propositioning. But not only had he just lost Alastríona, he was also now a wanted man.

“Just a room,” he said. “And food and water.”

“Only one?” she asked, eyeing Zelos and Sehun once more. “There are three of you.”

“One is all that we can afford,” said Rune. He wasn’t sure if they could even afford the one.

“All right, then. That’d be four coppers.”

Rune glanced at Zelos, who stepped forward, pulling out a pouch from his trousers. Rummaging through it for a moment, he fished out four coins and placed them on the countertop.

“Follow me,” the innkeeper said, pocketing the coins before she led them up the shoddy ladder to the second floor. “Come down for the food and drink.”

Rune waited until she was no longer near them to walk into the room.

“Wow, this is a dump,” Zelos remarked behind him. And he wasn’t wrong. Even though thin pallets covered with filthy blankets laid out on a bedframe that looked like it was made centuries ago was nothing new to him, he had grown quite accustomed to the luxuries of his quarters at the palace. They were all that he had worked for, after all. To get away from the dreadfulness of peasantry.

“We’ll make do,” Rune said. “You get some sleep first. I’ll be on the watch.”

The Captain did not seem happy with that. “We’re still too close to the city, My Lord… I mean, Rune. The guards could catch up at any moment. And the news of your escape and my treason will reach the outlands before they do.”

“It will take them a while to figure out which path we took,” Rune said. “We have at least five hours before they catch up. Even if they do, we still have a precious cargo they wouldn’t dare see hurt.” He beckoned at Sehun, who was distracted by the crevices on the room’s dirty, begrimed walls.

“Then, perhaps, Prince Sehun should keep watch since he’s already gotten some sleep,” Zelos suggested. Sehun looked at them, then.

“Neither of you are sleeping until you tell me what’s going on,” the Prince ordered, drawing his silversword. He pointed it at Rune. “Who murdered my mother?”

Zelos shifted his gaze to Rune, too.

“Rowana,” Rune sighed.

The Young Prince’s face paled as his hand lowered the sword. “What?”

“She did it.” Rune turned around and pulled the cloak off. “She and some… assassins, who materialized out of nowhere and in shadows and smoke. She’s a worshipper of Daz’gon. She’s part of the Blood Cult. She was in my quarters. She took my scimitar and then just vanished into thin air, the same way those assassins did.”

When he faced Zelos and the Prince again, they were both staring at him, jaws slacked and mouths agape.

“I… should have asked you nail down the specifics earlier,” Zelos muttered, looking baffled.

Sehun, on the other hand, seemed disappointed before his eyes flared with anger. “This is… what I helped you escape for? You plead innocent by making a case of an attack by a cult made of insane zealots? The Blood Cult is just a bunch of foolish, aberrant maniacs, who believe in garbage and a God that does not exist. Do you _expect_ me to believe this story you’ve spun up?”

Rune rolled his jaw and mustered the boy from his head to feet before turning his back to the Prince. Dipping his hands into the basin, he cupped some murky water and splashed it on his face before laving his forearms.

“I don’t,” he muttered. “But you do believe I didn’t do it.”

“My Lord,” Zelos said. “I mean, Rune. I could entertain the idea of Princess Rowana being behind the murder. She could have an intent. With the Queen Alastríona out of the way, she becomes the Queen. But assassins… Shadows?”

“She would have become the Queen either way when my mother passes the crown to my brother,” Sehun spat. “Your premise does not add up.”

Zelos frowned.

“He is right,” Rune told the Captain. “Rowana has… other intents. She wanted to particularly frame _me_.”

“Which means, she wants you out of the picture first,” said Zelos. “Why?”

Rune scowled, drying his wet hands with the rag by the basin. “I don’t know yet. It couldn’t have been because she was worried of me guarding the Queen. If that had been the case—”

“She would have done it while you were in Corora for almost three months,” Zelos finished. Rune nodded. “She wanted you here.”

Sehun sheathed his silversword and took a graceful seat on the edge of the bed, shoulders still refusing to slouch. Even after all that riding, the boy’s grace and poise remained as unruffled as his silver hair.

“Rowana couldn’t have done it,” the boy said in a shaky whisper. “I’ve known her since I was a child. What intent could she possibly have? She is Garan’s consort. The _Crown Prince’s_ consort. She could not achieve a greater title. As long as she doesn’t have Raiganiel blood flowing in her veins.”

He looked up at Rune again.

“How can I trust you?” he asked. “For all that we know, _you_ could be the one who’s framing her.”

Rune unlaced his shirt and removed it. The Prince averted his gaze instantly. “I was Alastríona’s most trusted companion,” he said. “I was at her side for twenty years. I knew you from the day you were born, Prince Sehun. And if I wanted to murder the Queen of Raenythör, I am man enough to wage a war against her. Not earn her trust and then stab her in the back.”

Rising to his feet, Sehun closed the distance between them, his eyes actively avoiding dropping to Rune’s shirtless body. “All those years of serving her,” the Young Prince said slowly. “have you not once… wanted to sit on that throne, _Lord Vanguard_?”

Rune let his blue eyes lance into Sehun’s brown ones. “I would have killed you and your brother first. And him,” he spat back, jerking his chin toward Zelos. “I would have made sure that every last drop of Raiganiel blood is dry if I ever once found the aspiration to sit on the throne.”

After a moment of staring back into Rune’s eyes, the Prince backed away. “All right. What’s the plan? My brother will never believe if we just went back and incriminated his wife.”

Rune sat down on the bed and clasped his hands together before eyeing the Death Mark on his left hand. “In the prison, I saw the man, who attacked the Common Temple.”

“The Blood Cult prisoner,” Zelos said.

“Yes. He said… Craiweth held the answers I needed. I am going to find the Blood Cult. And I will find those who murdered the Queen.”

“It could be a trap.”

“It could,” Rune sighed and glanced up at Sehun. “You’re a priest. Have you heard anything about the Blood Cult?”

The Young Prince loured. “Yes. They’re people who practise necromancy and devilry, but that’s all just nonsense. The Blood Cult used to be a small illegal sect growing in the north. And I suppose I’ve heard rumours of this… new God originating from Craiweth. But these… assassins that materialize from smoke and shadows you talked about sound crazy.”

“Yeah. And I was dead once. I’m all about crazy,” Rune said and reclined on the bed, draping an arm over his eyes. “I suggest you get some rest too, Zelos. The little priest can keep watch.”

He heard no objection as Zelos settled down on the floor.

* * *

He was there again. The dark void of grey. He stood on the rock, motionless.

“Come find me, Rune Degenhard,” said the voice.

Rune gripped his jaw. “Who are you? I know this isn’t just a dream.”

“It is not.”

“Then tell me who you are and why I’m here.”

The voice drifted around him. “Alongside enemies you walk, Rune Degenhard,” it said again. “The Death Mark will guide you. Listen to it. Let it guide you.”

Rune looked at the Mark tattooed to the back of his hand. “I don’t know what this is.”

“Not yet. Not all can euchre Hergroc, the Diminisher. The Mark will be both your deliverer and your curse.”

“What do you mean?” Rune demanded.

“In Craiweth, I shall await you.”

The grey faded around him and the black waxed.

He jolted up with a gasp and squinted at the candlelight, which allowed only a little brightness to the otherwise dark room. He glanced around and found Zelos sprawled along the floor, still fast asleep. His gaze eventually landed on the faint silver hair resting against the floorboards before it slowly rose to meet Prince Sehun’s perplexed face. He seemed spooked, seated on the floor by the door, back leaned against a wall, a hand tightly wound around the grip of his sheathed sword.

Rune rubbed his forehead and perched up on the edge of the pallet. “Did I frighten you?” he asked quietly, careful not to wake Zelos up.

“No,” the Prince spat quickly and turned his face away. Picking up his shirt, Rune pulled it on before rising from the bed.

“How long has it been?”

Sehun took a moment to answer. “I am not sure. It’s evening now.”

“We’ll get back on the road as the night falls.” As he started for the door, the Prince stood up.

“Where are you going?”

“To get something to drink and eat. You should come along.”

“How are you in the mood to eat, drink and rest when you have the entire kingdom thinking of you as a murderer?” The youthful priest grimaced.

“Life goes on,” Rune said tiredly, grabbing his cloak. “This will be your one chance to get something to eat. We can bring something back for him for when he wakes up.” He looked back at Zelos before slogging past the Young Prince without touching him.

He had learned from the events of this morning that Prince Sehun would not even want the shadow of a Nekrón to touch him.

As he wended his way out of the room and down the ladder, he heard nimble footfalls follow him.

The inn was more crowded than it was in the morning. And louder.

Jostling through the boisterous crowd, Rune found a table and sat down. Sehun stopped to hesitate as he rubbernecked at the drunk, singing sots with the cloak pulled over his gleaming silver head. Then looking at Rune, he took a seat on the bench across the other man.

A barkeeping girl hurried over at once with a jug of ale. She winced on her way when a drunk slapped her ass.

“This place is despicable,” Rune heard Sehun mutter under his breath as the barkeeping girl filled two tankards with ale.

“What will you have, sir?” she then asked Rune.

“Bread and some pheasant,” he ordered. She went away then.

He quietly stared at the Young Prince, who was glowering threateningly at the men in the inn, his hands fisted on the table. Rune picked up the tankard and emptied it in one gulp before hailing another barkeeping girl over to refill it.

“Drink up, priest boy,” Rune said. Sehun turned his lour to him now.

“I am not a priest yet. I’m a postulant,” he said angrily.

“What’s that?” asked Rune dully, watching the barkeeping girl pour the ale into his tankard.

After she was gone, Sehun spoke again, in a low voice. “I have just completed my mastership. I am have just received admission into the Idaem Sect of Akrowyth. But I will soon become a priest.”

Rune guzzled the ale and wiped his mouth and beard on the back of his head. Sehun made a face.

“You are a disgustful man,” the boy remarked.

“You didn’t use to think that when you were younger,” Rune countered. Sehun’s face wilted a little under Rune’s gaze then. But he quickly recovered and scowled again.

“People change.”

“They certainly do.”

The pheasant meat and ryebread came to their table eventually. Rune noticed Sehun clenching his teeth strongly when a man yanked a barkeeping girl to his lap and started undoing the laces of her gown.

“Pigs,” Sehun spat and picked up a slice of ryebread. He gave it a once-over, the corners of lips turning down with a moue.

Rune tore a hunk of the roasted pheasant and ate it graciously. He was starved. “I thought priests aren’t supposed to cuss.”

The Prince took a small bite of the bread and stopped. “What?”

Rune shrugged. “Right? You can’t execrate, sleep with women, or men, take the Lords’ names in vain, partake in aggression, desire anything an ordinary man would.”

The Prince’s frown deepened. “I told you. I am not a priest yet. But I do not… do all of that, anyway.”

“You attacked me with aggression when we met at the High Temple. You carry a sword around. You just cussed at these men here. And you’ve been staring at the barkeeping girl’s unlaced gown that’s showing half of her breasts. Not to mention you are still very princely. You would make a lousy priest.”

Sehun’s cheeks reddened. “I…”

“What? Are you denying any of it? Have you already sworn in your chastity, poverty, modesty, and obedience?”

“No, but—”

“So, you’re not chaste? You’re still a prince and you definitely live like one. Nothing about that hair of yours and the things you wear is modest. And obedience? You weren’t obedient ten years ago and you aren’t obedient now.” Rune paused to sink another bite into the meat. Then with a full mouth, he chugged another draft of ale. “You are no fit for a priest. Which, by the way, is a compliment.”

The Young Prince sat still for a long moment, stumped and flushed. Then with a stutter, he whispered, “I am… chaste.”

Rune tried not to let that get to his head. “One down, three to go, then,” he sighed.

“There you are,” Zelos rasped when he found them. “I thought you had left.” He took his seat next to his cousin. He raised an empty tankard to get the attention of a barkeeping girl. “I am famished. If you don’t mind, Your Grace, may I?” He extended a hand past Sehun’s plate and fetched himself a piece of the pheasant meat.

“We ought to start moving soon,” Rune said. “While it’s still dark.”

“How long do you think it would take to reach Craiweth?”

“If we rode hard enough, two days.”

Zelos sank his teeth into the dense meat and chewed on it with a grateful moan. Despite being royalty, Zelos had grown accustomed to the ways of graceless soldiers. Which made him slightly more tolerable than the other royalties.

Prince Sehun was eyeing the meat with a keen look on his face. He had not touched his ale either.

“If you’re not going to drink that,” Rune said and grabbed hold of the Prince’s tankard before knocking back the ale. The boy scowled at him. When Rune hailed the barkeeping girl over, he asked for more ale and some water for Sehun.

“Do you not eat meat, Your Grace?” Zelos said to Sehun.

Shaking his head, Sehun said, “No.”

“Well, you better eat up, Princess,” Rune spat. “We can’t afford to be picky on the road.”

“Surely they must have some potatoes or yam or porridge?” said Zelos.

“No,” Sehun said, eyes still fixed on Rune. “It’s fine.” He picked up a hunk of pheasant meat.

“You shouldn’t have to. Priests are supposed to be vegetarian,” Zelos pointed out.

“That’s all right,” Rune said. “He’s not _yet_ a priest.” Raising his tankard, he countered the boy’s harsh gaze with a smug look.

Sehun ate the bird with a repelled expression. But as the repulsion receded, his eyebrows rose, and eyes broadened. He greedily grabbed another slab of meat and crammed it into his mouth along with a few morsels of ryebread. Rune and Zelos watched him gobble down the food obscenely. All of Sehun’s grace waned as he stuffed his cheeks in hunger. Rune wondered how hungry the boy must have been.

He took a dram of the ale and swallowed, averting his eyes to the hooded figure in the corner of the inn. He was alone, a tankard in his hand, an old tattered scabbard hanging at his hip, holding a blade. He swallowed his drink slowly, quietly. Rune tried to get a clearer sight of the man’s face, but it was completely concealed beneath the shadows of his cowl.

“Let go of me,” a barkeeping girl screeched, diverting Rune’s attention away from the hooded stranger. Sehun stopped chomping, too.

“Oh, where do you think you’re running off to,” a drunk man yanked her back by the arm, forcing her to drop on his lap. “Come on. Let us see what’s beneath these laces.” He started tugging at the laces of her gown as she struggled to free herself.

Rune looked away and so did Zelos. As he chowed down on the remaining meat and bread, the Young Prince turned to stare angrily at him again. “Someone should do something,” he grumbled.

“It’s not our business,” said Rune coolly, chugging the last of his ale.

“He’s right,” replied Zelos. “We shouldn’t be attracting attention to ourselves.”

The girl attempted to shove the man away, her face streaked with tears while the other men cheered and laughed around her. Sehun sat completely frozen, eyes unblinking as he watched the sot harass the barkeep girl with a lockjaw.

“You there,” said a man from Rune’s side. He turned to the bearded, burly stranger, who was looking at him like he was a ghost. “That Mark.” He pointed at Rune’s left hand. “That’s the… Death Mark.”

Rune clenched his hand and turned his head away.

“You’re a Nekrón,” the man gasped. Before Rune could do anything about it, Sehun shot up to his feet and grabbed a bread knife from the next table. Flipping it in his hand, he darted in the direction of the sot troubling the barkeeping girl. A shrill scream was followed by gasps and silence as the knife javelined through the man’s hand, pinning it to a wall at his side.

“Shit,” Zelos let out.

As the barkeeping girl scurried away, the man gaped at his pierced hand that was pinned to the wooden wall of the inn with a butter knife driven through his palm. Then he bellowed, screaming out profanities.

Rune glanced at the Young Prince, who stood with his chest out and hand ready at the grip of his sword. _Idiot._

Within seconds, the drunks in the inn had their weapons drawn and were charging at Sehun.

Zelos moved first, wielding his sword as jumped before the Prince. When Rune shot up, he was obstructed by the blade that was swung at him by the man who had recognized his Death Mark. “You’re him!” the man cried.

Dodging the blow by mere inches, Rune elbowed the man in the face and disarmed him before catching the sword. He leaped over the table and seized Prince Sehun’s arm, yanking the boy out of the way of a swinging sword. Zelos blocked another attack, driving his sword into a sot’s chest before sending the man plummeting to the ground.

“We need to get out of here!” he hollered.

“Come on,” Rune grunted and tugged Sehun toward the exit. He stopped as the door was blocked by a crowd of men, who now wanted to kill all three of them. Rune tossed Sehun a brutal scowl.

The boy did not seem fazed in the very least. He drew his sword. Rune had no doubt that the boy would win in a fair duel. But these men did not fight fair.

“You. Stay put,” Rune ordered him and released his arm to wrest the silversword from Sehun’s hold. It had been a very long time since he had engaged in a tavern fight with some of the nastiest, foulest men of Akrowyth. It had his blood pumping with excitement as he stepped forward.

He blocked a sword first and his heart pounded at the sound of the blades clanging. His boot came up to stomp the man on the chest, staggering him back before he turned to the other five men that charged at him at once. He had seen worse.

While he took care of most of the attackers, Zelos kept up the Young Prince’s defence. By the time Rune was done, his chest was heaving, sweat soaking his shirt while the men crawled over the floor, covered in blood, tears, and ale.

The hooded stranger hadn’t moved from where he sat.

Rune grabbed Sehun’s arm once more and hurried out of the inn. “Unhitch the horses,” he told Zelos.

Prymos whinnied when Rune walked up to him.

“Let go, Nekrón,” Sehun growled, pulling his arm free from Rune’s grip. Rune knew they did not have the time right now for him to give the brat a piece of his mind. That would have to wait. Right now, they needed to get out of the sight of civilization and blend in with the dark of the night.

Zelos waited for the Young Prince to mount his horse before they rode north-westwards again through the Woodlands.

 

 

* * *

 

# C H A P T E R   T H R E E

 

They only came to a rest in the middle of the night near the mountain range where the roads ended. All was quiet and dark amid the thick copses. Rune reined Prymos to a stop when they reached a coppice in the woods. The coppice seemed fresh but hardly seemed frequented. Might have been hunters or travellers.

Dismounting Prymos, he gave the black horse a good pat on the neck before glimpsing Zelos and the Young Prince.

“There’s a river nearby,” Rune said. “We’ll let the horses get their rest. Zelos, see if you could find some Dew Plums or Sule Roots for the horses. And build a small fire. It’s going to get colder up here.”

“Yes, My Lord.” With that, Zelos went away, leaving the reins of his horse in Sehun’s hands.

Rune took them out of the boy’s hands and shepherded the two horses towards the small stream of coursing water. Unsaddling them, he let them drink up before he knelt on the riverbank to fill the waterskin he found in Prymos’ saddlebags. Then cupping a handful of water, he swallowed it. The moon was full tonight when he looked up at the sky.

Prymos trotted over to him and nudged Rune’s shoulder with his nose. Rune smiled weakly and rubbed the beast’s mane. It was a little pathetic that Rune’s only friend all these years had been a warhorse. But Prymos got him.

“I wonder what day it is,” Rune told him.

“Dardag,” came the answer from behind. “Tenth of Firmoon.”

Rune knelt stiffly, his eyes roving the trees on the other side of the river. Between the trees stood a pasty-skinned, white-eyed man, clad in hunting raiment, an axe in his hand. His rotting flesh and eyes milky with death glimmered under the moonlight. The Dead raised its axe slowly and bowed its head. The Death Mark throbbed.

“What are you going to do when you don’t find your answers in Craiweth?” Sehun said, distracting Rune’s attention. He blinked, and the Dead vanished.

He scowled, jaw tightening. He turned his head halfway around to look at the Young Prince, who was back in his ornate overcoat.

Rune remembered the little nine-year-old boy, who had refused to wear anything with embroideries and rhinestones. He had wanted to run around the palace in his undershirt and pants, barefooted. He was a boy who was easily distracted by the littlest things. He was curious. So curious. He was adventurous. He loved fables and myths. His inquisitiveness was peculiar. He was not like the others.

But before Rune right now stood a cultured, educated, worldly, pious, cynical boy on the threshold of manhood. And unfortunately for him, he was more insufferable now than he had been as a child that was difficult to control.

“You must return to Akrowyth with me,” Sehun said as he walked over to the saddlebags piled on the ground. Rune rose to his full height. “You will put your neck on the block again and face the headsman’s axe once more. You will die.”

He drew his silversword from the saddlebags and wiped the blood staining the blade with a rag he found in a saddlebag. Rune removed his cloak and placed it on a boulder before marching over to the Young Prince.

“If I don’t?”

Sehun’s eyes lifted.

Rune stopped and grabbed the Prince’s wrist in a fierce grip when the youthful _postulant_ started to sheath the sword. “What are you going to do if I don’t go back to face my sentence? What are you going to do if I snapped your neck and threw you into this river right now?”

Sehun gritted his teeth. “I’d like to see you try,” he spat spitefully, yanking his arm back in an attempt to free his wrist but failed. Rune’s fist tightened around it. “Take your bloody hand off me, Nekrón.”

“Do I, a man who’s taken his last breath and touched the likes of Hergroc, taint you with just a touch?” Rune asked, keeping his tone stern but steady.

“Nekróns taint all that is blessed by Idaemïr. His devotees, His lands, His world. I am a coenobite. You will burn in Hell for touching me, you filth.”

Rune nodded his head thoughtfully. “I see,” he muttered and released Sehun’s wrist. “So, what will happen if I do _this_?”

He raised his hand with a violent force and backhanded the Young Prince across his face, sending the boy reeling to a side. Rune licked his lips and scratched his beard, watching the boy steady himself, panting hard for breath. He shook his head a few times and blinked rapidly as a droplet of blood trickled from the corner of his mouth.

“Look, Princess,” Rune said. “You really shouldn’t have hit me earlier. I don’t like keeping debts. I always give back what I get.”

After a moment of catching his breath and letting the blow register to his brain, the boy looked up at Rune, completely aghast. Then instantly, his expression hardened and lifted his sword. “You fucking bastard,” the supposedly religious priest-to-be snarled before he lunged at Rune, brandishing the sword, aiming for Rune’s neck.

It took Rune one lazy move to sidestep the sword. Sehun did not stumble. He stopped and repositioned himself. It was clear to see that his brand of swordsmanship was coached by the most masterful swordsmen in all of Raenythör. Rune didn’t learn his swordplay from those men. He learned it from getting his guts kicked in in street duels as a teenager. He learned it from countless battles. He learned from hard, dire experiences. And that was the best kind of swordsmanship.

But the Young Prince was not bad with a sword, he’d give the boy that. He was as deft as Garan was. But his moves were too predictable. Rune managed to dodge every single one of his swings almost effortlessly.

Realizing that he could not fight Rune with a sword, even when the other man was unarmed, Sehun dropped the silversword to the ground and huffed heavily.

“You dare… hit,” he began, breathing laboriously. “a… Prince?”

Rune smirked, holding his hands halfway up with a shrug. “What are you going to do about it?”

The boy bolted forward then. As he threw a fist in Rune’s way, Rune caught and tugged at it before spinning Sehun around. His back now pressed against Rune’s chest, he squirmed and growled as Rune tightened an arm around the front of his neck.

He was brave. Very brave to go head on with a man thrice his size and strength. Or he was incredibly reckless. Either way, he was helpless now.

He elbowed Rune a few times in the other man’s ribs. Rune barely flinched, bringing his other hand to cup the Prince’s jaw. Gripping it, he raised Sehun’s face.

“One twist and you’re dead,” Rune hissed under his breath and into Sehun’s ear. The boy stopped moving.

Rune nuzzled his nose into the silver, silky hair, which now had a few loose strands that must have strayed from the braids that held half of his hair tied up.

“Do you want to test me some more?” asked Rune. “I don’t have the time to put up with your whims and vagary. I must avenge your mother’s death and expose the real murderer. If you are going to be a hindrance, I will gladly get rid of you first. Do you understand? So, if you try to pull a stunt like you did earlier at the inn and slow me down, you will come to regret it. You are no longer behind the walls of your pretty palace. This is how dirty the outside world is. Also,” he paused to slide his hand down Sehun’s jaw and curl it around the boy’s neck. He felt a throbbing pulse against his thumb. Sehun was holding his breath. Rune brushed his lips to the boy’s ear. “If you react unnecessarily again to my touches and raise _your_ hand to me, I will fucking break it. Am I understood? Your _Highness_?”

Sehun did not respond.

Rune released him and shoved him away. He had promised Alastríona that he would keep Sehun safe. But he never promised her to be gentle about doing it.

As he walked over to the horses to guide them back to the coppice, he saw Prince Sehun perch down on a boulder on the riverbank, his head hung and blood drying on that corner of his mouth. He seemed dejected, defeated. And tired and disappointed.

Rune thought about the little boy, who used to revere him and think the world of him. Would he have ever raised a hand against that boy? A part of Rune wanted to find out if the boy still resided in this snooty brat.

He tied the horses’ reins to a tree and left them to get their rest before he meandered back to the coppice, where he found Zelos trying to build a fire.

“Oh, Rune,” he said. “I couldn’t find any Sule Roots or plums, but I did find some Heady Shoots.”

“Good enough,” Rune said, collecting the purplish shoots into his hands. He glanced back to see if the Young Prince had followed him back. He hadn’t.

“Where’s His Grace?” Zelos inquired.

Rune grinded his teeth. “We don’t have a lot of time. Do you know which way is Craiweth?”

Zelos looked up. “Well, the stars are pointing us toward north. But we’ll watch where the moon sets, and the sun rises in the morning. Then we’ll know for sure.”

Rune nodded. He looked over his shoulder again. Then cursing under his breath, he meandered his way back to the river.

The Prince was still seated on the boulder, almost slouching. Rune fed the horses the Heady Shoots before he walked over to the boy.

“You shouldn’t sit out here on your own. Let’s go back,” he said. When Sehun didn’t turn around or reply, Rune rubbed the back of his sore neck. “Are you… too hurt?”

Still no response.

Rune sighed. “You’re the one who wanted to come along,” he said. “I can’t clean up after your mess all the time. Rowana killed your mother. Or at least she was behind it. That should be our priority. If we’re going to have any chance of getting to Craiweth without getting ourselves caught, we have to remain discreet. What you did at the inn out of sheer impulse was stupid.”

“I loved her,” the boy blurted out in a low whisper. Rune blinked. “I loved my mother. But I also… hated her. For sending me away to Nabooru. And for…” he trailed off.

Rune gnawed at his lip for a moment. “She did it for your own good.”

The boy scoffed. “She did it to get me out of her hair.”

“That’s not true.”

“I was not the Raiganiel she wanted me to be. I was more like my father. Wayward and unruly. She couldn’t stand it.”

Rune balled his hands into fists. “She loved you all the same. And if it is any compensation, you turned out more Raiganiel than any one of them.”

Letting out a humourless laugh, the Young Prince said, “You will always take her side.” Rune’s eyebrows furrowed. “You loved her, too.”

His heartbeat quickened, but he said nothing.

Sehun rose to his feet and turned around faced Rune, whose eyes wandered to the dry blood on his face. A pang of guilt struck his chest then.

“You want to avenge her more than you want to clear your name, don’t you?” the Prince said, slinking closer to Rune. “Tell me. Did you ever succeed in winning her heart? Did she ever end up spreading herself open for you?”

Rune clenched his fists but held himself back.

The boy smirked as the moonlight danced between the silvery strands on his head. “What? Are you getting angry again, Lord Vanguard? You’d do anything for her, won’t you?”

Rune huffed then and turned around to stomp back to the coppice after gathering the saddlebags. Sehun was trying to provoke him. Rune was not going to let him have that win.

Zelos had managed to make a small fire when Rune returned. They made a makeshift pallet with the saddlebags and cloaks before taking their seats around the fire.

“There should be at least a couple of towns south of Craiweth, where we could get our refreshments on our next stops,” said Zelos.

Rune nodded. “Zelos,” he called with a sigh. “You do realize if… I’m wrong about all of this and I couldn’t find enough proof to criminate Rowana and vindicate myself, you will have to live the life of a convict, too?”

Zelos stared into the flickering flames. “I do. But if there’s a small chance of me helping you find the real culprits who murdered my aunt, I would take the risk.” His eyebrows drew together. “After my parents’ death, she was all that I had left. She took me in, gave me a proper living without making me feel like a charity case. And as far as I know, you were always at her side, guarding her. I know you wouldn’t have done it.”

A corner of Rune’s lips turned into half a smile. He clapped a hand on Zelos’ shoulder before sighing and scrubbing his beard with both hands. “You ought to get some sleep.”

“Yes,” he muttered and stopped to stare at Rune. “I know you are grieving. I am, too. And I know Sehun is, too. But if any of us can see this through, it’s going to me you, My Lord. You have faced Hergroc. I doubt there is anything more unmanning than that in this mundane world.”

“I faced Hergroc when I was twenty-five. I am almost thirty-seven. I don’t think I could go on a war against the King of Raenythör. Besides, I’m not sure I’ll want to.”

Zelos swallowed. “I know… nobody really knows how you foiled… the Diminisher, Hergroc. And you don’t like to talk about it. But what did… death feel like?”

Rune closed his eyes and listened to the symphonies of the forest around him. The chirping crickets, the crackling fire, the heavy breathing of the horses, the whistle in the wind, the rushing river. He no longer vividly remembered the details of the grievous day he had pushed past the darkness and nothingness and faced the horned Diminisher that reeked of death. Everything that happened next remained as fragments in his memories.

“Death itself was quick,” Rune muttered. “Like a pinprick. But what came after…” He looked at his Death Mark as it stung. “No wars would prepare men for that.”

Zelos’ face wilted. “I suppose we all must face Hergroc eventually. How did you… escape him?”

Rune pursed his lips and gazed into the fire that reminded of the flames that licked up Hergroc’s mighty horns. “I don’t remember,” he lied.

“Oh, there you are, Your Grace,” Zelos gasped suddenly and stood up. Rune did not bother to glance back at Sehun. “We have decided to stay and watch the sunrise to make sure we’re going in the right direction. Perhaps you could use this opportunity to catch a few winks.”

As Zelos settled on the ground, an arm tucked under his head, Rune uncapped the waterskin and took a sip of water. He heard light footfalls behind him before he looked up at the Prince, who wandered to a tree and sat ceremoniously on the ground, tugging at his overcoat for warmth.

The night wore on. Both Rune and Sehun quietly watched the flames dance erratically while Zelos snored. When Rune looked up again, he noted the boy was rubbing his hands together, staring at the fire eagerly. The tip of his nose and his cheeks were rubicund due to the chilly night. As soon as he caught Rune looking, he’d turned his face away.

With a heavy breath, Rune pushed himself up and walked away from the fire. He settled between the horses and swung an arm over Prymos’ neck to rifle his fingers through the horse’s black mane. His gaze darted to the Young Prince, who rose from the tree he was sitting against and knelt before the fire, holding his hands out to catch some heat. The boy looked tired and sleepy, a side of his pale face bruising fast. The wind lightly carded through his long hair. The silversword was back in its sheath.

He might hold an uncanny resemblance to his mother. But he was no Alastríona. This was a boy trying too hard to be a man.

Prymos lifted his head and glanced the way Rune was looking in. The beast then rubbed its nose against Rune’s shoulder. “Shut up,” Rune hissed at his horse, shoving its face away before he reclined to lean against Prymos.

He woke just a few moments before first light. Zelos was already awake and bathed. The muck and blood that were sticking to his skin were washed away now, and his hair was damp.

“Oh, good morning, My Lord,” he said. “I found some more Heady Shoots and caught a river fish. Only one though. I roasted it over the fire. We’ll have to share it.”

Rune yawned and looked around for the horses. They were on the riverbank, drinking. The fire was stamped out, leaving only dying embers behind. Near it slept the Young Prince, curled up in a ball, blanketed by his overcoat and hair.

“The sun is rising from there,” Zelos said, pointing at the sky. “So, that’s our east. We should move toward that direction for north. We are on the right path, then.”

“Wake him up,” Rune said hoarsely as he started for the river.

“Uh… M-My Lord?”

“I told you not to call me that anymore.”

“Ah… Yes but… Rune?”

“Wake him up, Zelos.”

“I don’t want to,” the Captain squealed.

Ignoring Zelos, Rune strutted over to the river, undoing the laces of his shirt and trousers. Taking his boots off, he shrugged out of his clothes and descended into the river.

He hadn’t heard the _voice_ talk to him last night.

He glanced up and spied the staggers of mountains behind the palls of endless mist. He hadn’t been to Craiweth many times in his life. But the few times he had journeyed to the dismal district, he reckoned nothing good had happened.

He scrubbed himself clean with the river water before he dunked his head into the water to wash his hair. When he resurfaced, his eyes turned to the silver-haired boy, who ambled away from the trees, eyes roving the nature around him.

Prymos turned and pranced over to the Young Prince. The boy’s bruised lip cracked a small smile as he raised his hands to the horse’s mane. He gave the warhorse a few gentle strokes before resting his forehead against the beast’s.

Then pulling away from Prymos, the boy removed his overcoat and spread it on the ground. He went down on his knees after unbuckling his sheath belt and setting the sword aside. Clasping his hands together, he closed his eyes to pray to the rapidly brightening skies. His lips were moving, chanting inaudible prayers.

Rune watched him for a long moment, recalling all the times he had seen Alastríona at her prayers. She, too, had looked so peaceful and serene.

He hated it. He did not need all these reminders that made his chest tight with grief. He had to keep his concentration straight.

He climbed back ashore and ran his hands over his head to push his wet hair back.

The Young Prince’s eyes fluttered open mid-prayers, and he lazily blinked, turned a little. His eyes bulged with horror as he was met with Rune’s stark-naked body. His face could not have turned red any faster.

“Blasphemy,” the boy gasped and scurried up to his feet before hurrying to the water stream and wash his forearms and face. Rune rolled his eyes and picked up his clothes and boots on his way back to the trees.

He paused to glance back at the Prince. “Well, you should know that I just bathed in that water.”

Sehun froze altogether for a moment, water dripping from his chin. His head then whipped up to turn and face Rune with a vicious scowl. But he quickly turned away once more, realizing Rune was still buck naked.

“You disgust me,” the boy spat.

Rune did not respond as he pulled his pants back on and headed back to the coppice with his shirt thrown over his shoulder.

* * *

By the time they found a road that led to the towns and villages surrounding the district of Craiweth, it was midday. And middays were not as scorching as they were in Akrowyth. So close to the mountain range, the air was heavy with chillness and smell of loam and trees.

Rune pulled Prymos over when his gaze fell on the signboards near a shoddy bridge that ran over a river. “Craiweth is this way,” he said, reading off the signboard. “So is a small village called Ikraemore.”

“We can possibly get something to eat there,” Zelos said. Rune glanced back at him and the Young Prince. Zelos was stroking his tawny horse, which looked dead on its hooves.

Rune dismounted Prymos and marched over to the others. He pressed a hand to Zelos’ horse’s forehead and rubbed it gently. The horse tiredly leaned into the touch.

“He’s exhausted,” Rune said, frowning.

“He’s been carrying the two of us for very long,” Zelos said. Rune glanced up to see a guilty look on the Young Prince’s face.

The boy pulled the cowl down from his head to reveal his neat braids, which he must have worked on this morning. He then climbed off the horse. The horse nickered in fatigue.

Rune turned to Prince Sehun with a stern glower. “You’ll ride with me on Prymos the rest of the way,” he said.

The boy’s face instantly lighted up with ferocity. “Like bloody Hell I will.”

“Oh, you thought I was _asking_?” Rune spat through his gnashing teeth. His hand came up to grip the Prince’s arm before he started hauling the boy toward Prymos. “Ride with me or get left behind.” He shoved Sehun at Prymos. The Prince sneered, hands tightly wound into fists. “Come on. Mount!” Rune commanded.

Sehun turned to the horse and angrily raised his hands to hold onto the saddle seat. Prymos was larger than most stallions, which what made him a great warhorse. That said, he could not be easily mounted by smaller men. Rune groaned and caught the sides of the boy’s waist from behind to hoist him up. He heard the boy gasp sharply as he was lifted from the ground, but he hurriedly swung one leg over the horse and plumped down on the saddle seat.

“I will ride at the front—”

Rune cut him off as he mounted Prymos in front of the boy. The horse staggered at first but as Rune gave him a pat on the neck, Prymos steadied and started in the direction of Ikraemore.

On their way, Prymos staggered a few more times, forcing the Young Prince to jerk against Rune’s back.

“Can’t you sit still?” Rune muttered after the fourth time.

“It’s not my fault!” Sehun yapped back. “Your stupid horse can’t march straight.”

Rune heeled Prymos’ rib lightly, which made the beast’s hindlegs spring a little, sending the Prince crashing against Rune’s back once more, his legs wrapped around Rune’s. The boy groaned and tried to pull away, a hand gripping Rune’s shoulder.

“Hands off, Princess,” Rune said and Sehun retrieved his hand once, grumbling under his breath. A slight smirk formed on Rune’s lips.

“Stop calling me a Princess,” growled Sehun. “When we get back, you will pay for all of this, Rune Degenhard. Even if you’re not my mother’s murderer.”

Rune blinked. Well, he hadn’t thought of that…

For now, he tried to ignore the heat of Sehun’s chest that was brushing against his back.

They reached the outskirts of the village not long after. The smell of woodfire and melting metal stung Rune’s nose before he heard the chatters of the villagers along with the lively music of a lute.

Almost every cottage in the village had a garden of its own, growing crops that were viable in the colder climate. The mountain range in the backdrop made for quite a sight. Rune did not recall passing this village when he had travelled to Craiweth before.

A chicken scampered across the road as Prymos entered the village. Some of the villagers dropped whatever they were doing to gawk up at the travellers that were passing through their village.

Rune drew his cowl lower. A child scurried away to hide behind her mother’s skirt. As they wove through the village, Rune took note of the blacksmith’s forge that had a signboard hanging at the entrance. _Angys’ Smithy._

Reining Prymos to a halt, Rune glanced back at Zelos, who did the same with his horse. “Get down,” he told the Young Prince in a low voice.

Sehun struggled to dismount without laying a single finger on Rune. But giving up fast, he took hold of Rune’s shoulders and clambered off the horse. Rune tried not to pay any heed to the way the boy’s slender fingers hand squeezed his sore shoulders and dismounted Prymos.

The villagers broke into whispers around them.

“We’re just three travellers,” Zelos called out to them. “We are looking for a place where we could get something to drink and eat.”

A man stepped forward and pointed a finger at a cottage that looked bigger than the rest. There was a cow hitched to the horse posts.

“There’s a tavern right there,” the villager informed them in a northern Raenythörian accent. “Are you from the south?” he asked Zelos, noticing Zelos’ southern accent.

“We are,” said Zelos.

The villager bowed his head and walked back to his wife and children. They were all now staring at the Young Prince and his gaudy overcoat. Then they turned to grimace at Rune, who was standing by the Prince.

As they started for the tavern, Zelos said, “They have a blacksmith.”

“I noticed,” Rune muttered.

“We could have a sword made for you.”

Rune nodded. “If you’re sure you can pay for it.”

“I think we have enough.”

The tavern, _Sleazy Dogs Tavern,_ was not in a good shape. But it certainly looked better than most taverns outside the big cities. Hitching their horses next to the cow, Rune ushered the Prince toward the entrance.

Prymos nickered and neighed annoyedly at the cow when it edged closer to smell his rump.

The tavern was almost empty. A drunk man was lazily strummed the strings of a lute in the corner with his feet drawn up on the table.

“Oh! Customers!” came a loud, excited caw from behind the bar counter. “Laindo! Laindo! We’ve got customers!” A fairly old woman hurried over to greet Rune and the others before a man of her age hampered right behind her. “Welcome. Welcome to the _Sleazy Dogs._ I am Kolle. This is my husband, Laindo. We’re the tavernkeepers.”

The woman was clad in a raggedy old gown, the mass of frizzy grey hair on her head was mussed and greasy. The man, who was mostly bald, had a few grey hairs on his head. He bowed before them and flashed a wide grin that revealed every single one of his yellowed teeth.

“We have good mead, mulled wines, ginger ale,” the old man said.

“Do you have anything stronger?” asked Rune.

“There’s Black Rum!” chimed Kolle. “It came all the way from Corora.”

Rune smiled.

“Food,” Zelos said, glancing around the tavern. “Do you have food?”

“We do,” said Laindo. “We’ve got charred rat meat, boiled frog with broth, rabbit tart today.”

Rune noticed the uncomfortable twist in Sehun’s face. “Sounds delicious,” he told the tavernkeepers. “What about a room?”

That staggered the couple for a moment. Their gazes bounced from Rune to Sehun then to Zelos and then back to Sehun. Then they exchanged a glance between themselves.

“Oh, we’ve got a couple of rooms available,” said Kolle, simpering oddly. “They’re not very clean for the time being but I doubt that would bother you much.”

“Certainly not,” added Laindo, craning his head to get a better look at Sehun’s face under the shade of the cowl. “I’d wager this very pretty harlot will keep you all distracted.”

Rune choked on air and coughed. Zelos’ jaw fell slack as his mouth hung open.

The Prince stood paralyzed for a short length before he furiously drew his cowl down and spat, “I am a man. And I am no… harlot!”

Laindo took a step back and scratched his bald head. “I know… you’re a man,” he said. “But only… whores dress like that around here. I’m sorry if I’m mistaken, though.”

Rune broke into a cackling laughter and Zelos joined him in it. Sehun, utterly mortified, gaped at Laindo, his hand almost reaching the hilt of his sword.

Rune caught his hand before he could. “Ease up, priest boy,” he murmured to the Prince and pulled him away from the tavernkeepers. “We’ll take the room.”

* * *

As evening began to fall, Rune sent Zelos away to the smithy to have a sword ordered while he stayed with the Young Prince and made sure he didn’t get into any more trouble.

“A rosemary and onion toffee?” Kolle offered when she walked up to their table. Sehun did not bother to look up at her. “I apologize for my husband,” she told him. “But you have a really nice hair.”

“Get away from me,” the boy hissed when she tried to touch his hair.

“Sorry,” she said and left them the platter of toffee with a pungent smell that even animals would run from. Rune picked one up and tossed it into his mouth. It was sweet, and it tasted like onions. He quickly chased it with a mouthful of Black Rum.

The boy glowered at him. “How could you eat that?” he asked. “And drink that godawful thing?”

Rune shrugged. “Beats drinking my own piss.”

“What?!”

Rune leaned forward. “Being a soldier isn’t what it’s made out to be.”

“Oh, I think it is,” said Sehun.

The tavern’s door swung open as three men sauntered in, engaged in a loud, violent conversation.

“If I ever get my hands on that Vanguard,” said one.

“What will you do? Soil your pants?” scoffed another, which made the last one of them snicker.

“He’s right,” said the other one as they settled at a table. “The Vanguard has led and won more battles than any of the previous Vanguards. Not to mention, he’s a Nekrón. He’s a complete beast.”

The first man spat out a spittle on the floor. “I’m sure it’s all rumours.”

Rune pulled his left hand under the table and hid it behind his cloak again, lowering his head.

“They’re talking about you,” whispered Sehun, eyes widening.

“Hi, Kolle!” one of the three men hailed her.

“What can I get you boys today?” Kolle asked, sashaying to their table.

“The usual. But have you heard? The Vanguard escaped and took the Young Prince as his hostage.”

Kolle almost dropped the wooden plate she was holding. “What? But isn’t the Young Prince in Nabooru?”

“He returned to Akrowyth apparently. And the rumours say he’s _beautiful_ ,” said one of them.

Sehun smirked at Rune. “You heard that? You’re a beast, and I’m _beautiful_.”

“But is an arrogant prick,” the man added. Sehun’s smugness died at once. Rune would have simpered in his face, but he was too unnerved to even move. “Became a priest or something. Can you imagine? A Raiganiel turning to the sect to become one of them?”

“Well, hardly a surprise. The Raiganiels were always religious and intensely faithful,” said Kolle. “But tell me more about this Vanguard. How did he escape?”

“We don’t know the details,” the man said. “But the guards are looking for him and the Prince everywhere.”

“Dear Idaemïr, I do hope they find they find him,” sighed Kolle. “Queen Alastríona was a great, fair ruler. She was better than her father and all the Raiganiels that came before him.”

“May the Maker give her soul peace,” said one of the men. Rune felt his heart clench. But Sehun’s face had also paled. “But she was perhaps too kind. She believed in the goodness of her people. She believed too much in the Gods. In Idaemïr. She didn’t realize her enemy was right at her side.”

Rune shut his eyes. The entire kingdom and far beyond believed that he had murdered the woman he still so dearly loved.

“King Garan will be a just ruler,” said another man. “In his name we shall make a toast.” They raised their tankards after Kolle had filled them with mead.

Rune rose from the table and dawdled to the room they had rented. The Young Prince followed.

“We have to get moving,” he said, pacing the room as soon as Sehun had shut the door behind him. “And for fuck sake, take off that overcoat.”

Sehun did not argue this time as he removed the overcoat and watched Rune frantically stomp around the small room, rubbing his beard. He stopped to look at his Death Mark.

Huffing heavily, he plumped on the stained bed and tore a piece of his cloak. He then tried to wrap the cloth around his hand to cover the Mark. When it kept slipping, he groaned in frustration.

“Here,” the Prince muttered, stepping forward. “Let… me.”

Rune, taken aback, stared at the boy, who went down to one of his knees and picked up the cloth. As he wound it around the hand, Rune’s eyes raked the fading contusion on the boy’s jaw, where his hand had struck.

Sehun had Alastríona’s beautiful eyelashes, too. And her soft, supple skin. Rune’s insides turned as he kept looking at the bruise. Before he even realized what he was doing, his right hand was rising to the Prince’s face.

Sehun’s fingers froze around the cloth he had finished tying as Rune’s brushed his jaw. The boy stared unblinkingly into Rune’s deep set blue eyes when Rune gently cupped his jaw, thumb lightly stroked the discoloured, throbbing skin.

“I’m… sorry,” Rune let out unconsciously, fingertips caressing the underside of Sehun’s jaw. He gazed into those familiar brown eyes. “I’m sorry for hurting you. And I’m sorry for… your loss. I know you, of all, had the least time with her.”

He felt the Prince’s jaw loosen in his grasp. Sehun’s hands lay limp on Rune’s wrapped hand. He swallowed, goggling vacantly at Rune. The nine-year-old boy, who had once asked Rune to marry him with those wide, agog eyes.

Then all at once, the very eyes narrowed sharply, and a darkness fell upon them. As Sehun jolted up, his hand flew to grip Rune by the neck. His fingers tightened around the bullneck, fingernails clawing at the skin. Rune did not retaliate.

“I will slice your throat open—” the Young Prince began to snarl before he was cut short by Zelos, who burst into the room.

“Rune, Your Grace,” he gasped and stopped when he found Sehun clutching at Rune’s neck. Arching an eyebrow, he said, “What… is going on?”

Sehun released Rune and withdrew his hand. Rune rose from the bed, rubbing his neck, and walked over to the basin. “Did you get the sword?” he asked, picking up the shaving razor.

“Uh… Yes, I did. But it’s just a cheapjack ironsword,” said Zelos while Rune trimmed his beard. “There’s something else. A guard came from Akrowyth with some news.”

“We heard,” Rune said. Sehun had retreated to stand near the door, where he removed his overcoat and pulled on his cloak once more. “We must get out of here before they turn to us with any suspicion.”

“Yes, we really must,” Zelos rasped. Rune turned around once he was done trimming his beard. The Young Prince was scowling at him. Zelos still looked confused and a little frantic. Rune sighed and gave the cloth around his left hand a quick once-over before he accepted the ironsword Zelos handed him.

“It’s heavy,” he commented, drawing the sword out of its sheath. “But it’ll have to do.” Buckling the sword belt around his waist, he motioned for them to get out of the room.

Having slinked out of the tavern, they quickly unhitched their horses and mounted them. Rune glanced around to make sure they weren’t being seen. The villagers were indoors as the night got rapidly colder and mistier.

And through the fog, he thought he sighted a hooded figure on a horse.

Rune stopped, gripping the reins as he stared into the darkness of the night. The hooded figure had vanished.

“What are you doing?” Sehun grunted from behind him on the horse. “Let’s go.”

 

 

* * *

 

# C H A P T E R   F O U R

 

Nearing Craiweth, they rode on roads that ran past several small villages and hamlets. Every time they encountered any sign of civilization, they dreaded someone recognizing them.

They eventually decided to stop on the outskirts of a hamlet of farmers to let the horses catch their rest. Petty stalls were put up near the fences that surrounded the hamlet to keep the wild animals out. A wide, violent river ran alongside the road away from the hamlet.

A huckster called out to them when he saw them walking alongside their horses. “Apples for your horses, travellers?” he singsonged, gesturing to the stacks of green apples in his stall. “Or perhaps some figs for you?”

Sehun stopped.

“Keep moving,” Rune muttered.

“I’m hungry,” Sehun said angrily.

Rune looked to Zelos with a lour.

“We’ll stop at the next town,” Zelos then said to the Young Prince. Sehun did not look happy about it, but he did not protest. Rune gave Prymos a couple of pats to tell him he was doing a good job. The beast nickered back in response.

“How long have you had him?” Sehun asked. “He’s a little… old.”

Rune was surprised Sehun was talking to him. With a tone, of course. But he hadn’t said anything since what happened at the tavern room. And while riding with Rune, he was very determined to never to touch the man even once.

Rune felt stupid for letting his guard down back at the tavern. He would kick himself if he could. He just didn’t know what had gotten into him.

“He _is_ old,” was Rune’s curt answer.

“You didn’t have him when I left for Nabooru,” the boy pointed out grouchily.

Rune looked at him, then. Funny that the Prince remembered that piece of useless information. If he could recall _that_ , he certainly must remember the vows he had uttered for Rune’s hand in marriage at the pavilion that evening.

The morning was crisp, beautiful, with mountains and forests surrounding the small, insignificant civilization. The river added an ecstatic berceuse to the song the nature sang.

“Cheese?” another huckster called when they slogged past the cheese stall. “Cheese for your bread?”

A group of kids scuttered around them, giggling and chasing after one another. A boy came to an abrupt halt, his mouth wide open as he gasped, rubbernecking at Prymos.

“He is _huge_ ,” he cooed, pointing at the black stallion. Rune stopped and smirked at the boy. “Is he a warhorse?”

“He sure is,” Rune said.

Prymos’ dug one of his front hooves into the dirt and bowed his head to acknowledge the compliment when the boy lifted a hand to touch his nose. The horse let him and appreciated the tiny caress.

“Good, horsy.” The boy chuckled and ran after his friends.

Rune remembered the day Alastríona had given him Prymos. She had told him the stallion was one of the noblest breeds of horses in all of Raenythör. That was not what had made Rune fall in love with this beast. It was the fact that the woman who owned his heart had gifted him his first companion, who’d fight alongside him in battles with steadfast vigour. She had said that she saw Rune in Prymos.

He glanced at the Young Prince who raised a hand to rub Prymos’ nose where the kid had touched.

“Your mother gave him to me,” Rune said. Sehun dropped his hand back to his side and gazed ahead at the road, scowling.

“I figured. How else could a soldier afford a stallion this mighty,” the Prince said.

Rune shook his head, gripping his jaw. When they reached a stone bridge that arched over the gushing river, Zelos stopped to read the signboard. “We must get to the other side to get to Craiweth,” he said.

The bridge was longer and wider than most of the bridges they had come across on their journey. And there was a bunch of men gathered by the railing, enjoying their morning with a merry song and tankards of what smelled like mulled perry. Rune kept his head low under the cowl as he trod past them.

The men stopped their singing to watch Rune, Zelos, Sehun, and the horses cross the bridge.

“Travellers,” one of them muttered with a thick northerner’s timbre to his accent.

“Shush,” another hissed.

Upon reaching the road that went through the woods on the other side of the bridge, Rune ordered Zelos and Sehun to mount the horses once more.

* * *

As night fell, the branches rustled eerily around them.

“How much further do you think Craiweth is?” Zelos asked, yawning.

Rune did not answer because he wasn’t sure. But the road had to lead them to a town or village soon. He shuddered when he felt the Young Prince’s head rest against his back. The boy had fallen asleep.

He reined Prymos to slow him down to make sure Sehun would not slip off the horse. Then taking the boy’s hands, he pulled Sehun’s arms around his waist. For a moment as the Prince stirred, he worried that he had wakened the boy up. But Sehun tightened his arms around Rune’s waist and leaned heavily against Rune’s back. His hands were dangerously close to Rune’s crotch.

“Why do you think Rowana did it?” Zelos said at length as the forest around them quietened with the darkening skies.

Rune exhaled heavily. “I don’t know. But I’ll find out.”

“Do you think… she’ll harm Garan?”

Rune shook his head. “They don’t have an heir. And the remaining two Raiganiels are here with me. The people of Raenythör will never accept someone that doesn’t have the Raiganiel blood running through their veins to sit on the Raenythörian throne.”

“But… if there is no other successor,” Zelos said. “she is the Queen Regent until another Raiganiel heir is found, isn’t she?”

Rune licked his lips, terribly aware of the heat that was pressed against his back. “Garan will be fine. I am very sure of it. She loses her upper hand if she harms the one piece of the game that allows her any power. And she can’t frame me for the murder if I’m not there. She knows if Garan’s dead… Sehun would be crowned King of Raenythör. And even with Sehun out of the way, there’s still you.”

Zelos coughed. “Me? By Idaemïr, I could never.”

Rune turned to him with a cocked brow. “You don’t want to be King?”

Zelos shook his head vigorously. “God, no. I know absolutely nothing about being a King. The kingdom would crumble within a day.”

“Your grandfather was one of the greatest Kings the realm has seen.”

“I’m not my grandfather. Not even close.” He laughed nervously. Rune smiled at that. Zelos would certainly make a lousy ruler. But he’d rather see the man on the throne than let Rowana get anywhere near it. “Garan would be a fine King. I wish nothing harmful happens to him. Between us, I don’t think…” He paused his whisper, eyes wandering to Sehun briefly. “Prince Sehun would… make a very good King.”

Rune looked down at the Prince’s hands that were resting on his thighs. He had slender fingers, clean nails, pink knuckles. It made Rune want to look at his own callused, rough, scarred fingers and the dirt that caked beneath the fingernails with disgust.

They rode another mile before coming across a signboard that told them to take the rode that struck left to get to Craiweth. Rune surmised that they would reach Craiweth before sunup.

Eventually, Sehun shifted his head against Rune’s shoulder blade and croaked out a soft moan before he roused. His arms around Rune’s waist twitched as he lifted his head off Rune’s back.

“Where… are we?” the boy inquired huskily, squinting into the night. Then abruptly, as though he had been jolted, he withdrew his arms from Rune’s waist. “I…”

“We’re almost in Craiweth,” said Zelos. “Your Grace.”

Sehun wasn’t listening, Rune reckoned. The boy was so still behind him that Rune wondered if he were all right. Then in a rough voice, Sehun said, “My back… feels like it’s going to break. We should stop for rest.”

“Yeah? How do you think _my_ back feels?” Rune muttered.

“You should have wakened me up,” Sehun spat back.

“We’re not stopping.”

“I can’t sit anymore.”

Rune yanked the leathers to pull Prymos to a jerky halt. Zelos stopped, too. Ahead on the road, a crashed wagon that was surrounded by five men covered in animal welts and furs with pickaxes and adzes caught their attention.

“Mountain bandits,” Zelos muttered.

Craiweth really must be close. The horrors of the living and the dead fouled the very air they breathed.

The bandits gathered whatever they could from the horse-drawn wagon, including the horse that neighed as though it were spooked. Rune bit his tongue when his Death Mark stung. He wrapped the cloth around his left hand to look at the Mark.

He then heard a weak cry for help from the wagon. “Please, spare my life,” mewled a man. Through the dark, Rune spotted the injured man on the ground. A bandit had his boot pressed against the man’s back, an adze held to the head.

“Let’s turn around,” Rune said. “We’ll find another way.”

“You’re going to leave that man to die?” Sehun rasped. Before Rune or Zelos could stop him, Sehun swung down from the horse and drew his cowl down, revealing his glistening silver hair before he unsheathed his silversword and marched toward the bandits.

“Rune,” Zelos called anxiously.

One of the bandits turned and looked in Sehun’s way. His eyes bulged. “Look what we have here,” he told the others. They dropped the stolen items and turned to gape at the Prince.

“Are you lost, boy?” a bandit snorted.

“Look at that shiny toothpick in his hand,” said another.

“Would go for at least ten gold pieces.”

“Let’s get it out of his hand, then.”

“Fuck,” Rune spat to himself and dismounted Prymos as the Young Prince kept advancing for the bandits, fist clenched around the grip of his silversword. “Stay with the horses,” he ordered Zelos as he started after Sehun.

Wrapping his hand around his new ironsword, he was about to draw it before he was staggered to a standstill by the hooded man between the trees bordering the roads.

“Tonight,” he heard Sehun say. “you will meet the Diminisher.”

Rune turned his gaze from the hooded figure in the shadows back to the Young Prince, who brandished his sword and blocked an adze before sending it flying across the road. Then slashing the blade along the bandit’s chest, he kicked the man down.

The hooded man was gone when Rune looked back at the trees.

He lurched forward, drawing the ironsword as a bandit hurled a pickaxe in Sehun’s way. Grabbing the Prince’s arm, he yanked the boy out of the way before his head could be split in half. Staggering to the side, Sehun regained his footing and quickly spun around to block an adze swung at him. Unfortunately, failing to dodge the pickaxe in time, Rune received it to the front of his shoulder. A struggled groan broke from his throat as the pickaxe stabbed through his flesh, almost cutting through his bones.

Choking on the agony, he raised his head and flaring eyes to the bandit. Rune straightened up, took a breath and yanked the pickaxe out of his shoulder’s front before launching it at the bandit’s head. Blood spurted from the man’s skull as the sharper edge of the pickaxe drove through his forehead.

As warm blood soaked his shirt and trickled down his chest, Rune turned to the other bandits and gashed their throats and drove his sword through their chests before he grabbed the last remaining bandit Sehun was battling by the hair at the back of his head. Yanking him away from the Prince, Rune drew the blade across the bandit’s neck and shoved his dying body to the ground.

Sehun’s mouth fell open. “You’re bleeding,” he gasped, looking at the blood seeping through Rune’s shirt and cloak.

Rune tried to push the pain away as he turned to the traveller, who owned the wagon.

“Thank you,” he panted. “Thank you so much.” He was a middle-aged man, who was all skin and bones. “There is a hospice in Craiweth that can take care of that wound. It’s not far.”

“I can take care of it myself,” Rune spat. “Get lost.” The man nodded hastily and hitched his wagon back to the horse before he rode away. As he started back to the horses, Sehun hurried after him.

“It is bleeding bad. Let me have a look.”

Rune stopped and turned on his heel to grab the boy’s cloak by the chest. “What part of ‘don’t be a hindrance’ didn’t you understand?!” he roared. Sehun gaped at him, standing on the tip of his toes as Rune tugged at his cloak. “Did you think my threats were idle? That I wouldn’t snap your neck and—”

He cut himself short and looked over the Prince’s shoulder. In the heady haze, he caught glimpses of swirling shadows. The Death Mark scorched, as though it were a burning coal against his skin.

Rune released Sehun’s cloak slowly. The woods around them darkened, the moon in the skies was shrouded by dense grey overcasts, and the windless air turned heavier, colder. As the fog thickened all around them, the Death Mark throbbed harder.

“Get back to the horse,” Rune murmured to Sehun, keeping his eyes at the trees where he had seen the hooded figure earlier.

“No,” Sehun grumbled. “I didn’t ask you to help me. That pickaxe was meant for me. You didn’t have to—”

“I said get back,” Rune hissed, shoving past Sehun.

“Rune?” Zelos called from behind as he dismounted his horse.

Rune unclenched and clenched his hand around the ironsword a couple of times as his nervously roved the trees. He fisted his left hand as the Death Mark continued to smart.

“What are you doing?” the Prince asked in a low voice.

Rune almost turned around before a pall of black smoke erupted out of the foggy air. As a familiar masked man materialized through the shadowy smoke, Rune stumbled a step lifting his sword to obstruct the black sabre that sprung in his way.

The ironsword shattered as it impacted the black sabre. Before Rune could register what had just happened, the masked assassin struck sabre through his chest.

Prymos neighed deafeningly in agony as he darted toward Rune. He was imminently hindered from reaching Rune by another puff of black smoke from which a masked man appeared.

“No!” Sehun cried as he and Zelos bolted forward. The assassin disappeared once more into the shadows and smoke before two of them reappeared explosively. Rune panted hard, holding one hand to his bleeding chest as he collapsed to his knees, the ironsword broken in half in his other.

Coughing up blood that soon filled his mouth, he looked up at the Young Prince, who raised his silversword to parry one of the assassins’ strike. The instant the silver blade clashed against the black sabre with a head-splitting clang, Sehun stomped the assassin on his chest. But before he could swing again, the assassin vanished and the other lunged at the Prince.

Zelos charged forward, but Rune he wouldn’t save the Young Prince.

That was when a black sabre jutted out the assassin’s chest, pierced from the back. Rune raised his head, barely breathing to look at the hooded man yank the sword out of the assassin’s back before beheading the man. The dead assassin’s body did not remain solid for long as it burst up into smokes.

The hooded stranger than drew his cowl down. It was no… man.

She dropped to her knees before Rune. “They have found you. And they will be back,” she blurted out. Rune stared at her as his vision began to tunnel. “You need to focus. Use your Death Mark to summon the Dead.”

Nothing she said made sense. Rune then noticed the black tattoos that covered most of her face.

Then all at once, clouds of black smoke burst apart, revealing six of the masked assassins, all wielding black sabres.

Sehun and Zelos pulled their swords up. “What in fresh Hell is this?” Zelos let out lifelessly.

“Rune Degenhard,” the woman said, gripping his shoulder. “The Dead. Call upon the Dead. They are yours to command.”

What was she saying…

 _“Command them, Rune,”_ he heard a familiar voice in a distant void. As the woman shot up to her full height, she swung the black sabre in her hand.

Rune’s jaded attention turned to the group of pasty-skinned bandits on the road, their eyes as white as pearls, their hands gripping pickaxes and adzes. Rune’s heart stopped beating for a moment as he glanced to the bandits he had just slashed down. The bodies were gone, leaving only stains of blood in the dirt behind.

Rune felt the pull of his Death Mark. His eyes turned to the forest, where he sighted more of the Dead. Most of them looked like hunters. Some appeared to be travellers, who must have died on this road.

 _“Call upon them,”_ said the voice.

The assassins charged at them at once. Prymos rose to his hindlegs, braying menacingly as he tried to stave off the assassins, keeping them from reaching his only rider.

Rune clenched his left hand and drove the fist into the ground. The ground quaked as his insides felt as though they had gone up in flames. His breaths rushed out like hellfire, his eyes blazing red.

 _Hergroc._ He saw flashes of the Diminisher before his eyes as he called upon the Dead around him. He had no idea how he did it, but he felt the fire that coursed through his veins then.

The Death Mark glowed red like the horns of Hergroc. When he lifted his head, Sehun was gawking at his eyes in horror. And so was Zelos. But they quickly averted their attention to the Dead men that raced forward with a cruel shriek.

The assassins turned around to confront the Dead. But they were outnumbered for the Dead stood at, at least, thirty. A hunter’s axe shot through one of the assassins’ skull as the Dead gained on them, closing in on them from every direction.

And just like that, before the assassins could vaporise into black palls again, the dead men struck them down brutally, leaving nothing but swirls of smoke behind.

Rune rose to his feet, eyes flaring, breaths as hot as hellfire. He saw Hergroc once more before his eyes. He recalled putting his scimitar through the Diminisher’s chest. He remembered breaking the hell-born Diminisher’s horns.

He raised his hand on which the Death Mark glared bright. He commanded the Dead to begone. In the blink of an eye, the pale-skinned vanished into the dark of the night.

Rune dropped his hand as the red of the Mark faded and died out like a stamped-out fire. Then he fell back on his knees, blood oozing out of his chest and shoulder once again.

The world began to slip away around him.

“What is happening?” he heard Sehun gasp. “Those… Those things were… creatures from Hell!” He stopped, gaze dropping to Rune. Crashing down to his knees then, he took hold of Rune’s shoulders first before hastily cupping the man’s bearded face in his hands. “Rune? Oh, God,” he panted frantically, drawing a hand down to the bleeding wound on Rune’s chest. “We must do something. He w-will die i-if we don’t…”

Rune tipped forward and fell against the boy. Sehun protectively wrapped an arm around him.

“Help me get him onto the horse,” said the woman in the hood.

Sehun’s warmth was the last thing Rune remembered before he went out like a light.

* * *

The cacophonous sound of rattling and shouting tugged at his consciousness every now and then, forcing his eyes open before the abyss of nothingness would pull him back.

“He’s bleeding so much,” Rune heard the Prince say in a breaking voice. He was being dragged off of Prymos. Nothing much registered to him. Everything was bits and pieces.

As he was laid down on something soft, he realized his shirt was being ripped open.

“Hold him down. This will sting,” he heard a woman say.

And it did sting as something hot was poured over the open wound on his chest. The pain that followed knocked him out again.

* * *

When he roused next, his eyes barely opened. In the darkness, he spied a silver head resting against the bed’s edge. Rune had the urge to card his fingers through those fair strands that belonged to the boy, who was asleep, head on the bed, body seated in a chair.

But he found himself yielding back to the slumber that had a heavy grip on him.

* * *

The dreamless sleep volatized like rain in the summer. Bleating goats, rattling wheelbarrows, dank air, the cackling of burning firewood, and screaming men and women roused him.

His eyes flung open to meet the wooden ceiling through which rainwater leaked and dripped on the ground, pitter-pattering. The muggy sultriness of the room suffocated him. It was humid and dark. A sharp pain in his chest stopped him from sitting up.

“You shouldn’t get up so fast,” came a female voice from somewhere in the room that was all grey and muck. Along with the burning firewood, Rune smelled mud and rain. “The stitches take a while to settle in.”

Rune groaned and propped himself up on an elbow before glancing at the fire in the furnace. He then shifted his drowsy gaze to the woman pounding a pestle, her back turned to him. She was clad in a riding raiment; pants, boots, shirt. His eyes then flitted to the black sabre resting against the wall on the floor. And on the wooden chair near it was a cloak.

The hooded woman.

Slowly, it all came back to him in pieces and fragments. The bandits. The assassins. The woman. The Dead. Hergroc. The Death Mark. The sabre through his chest.

He looked down at the rags wrapped around his upper body and one shoulder. When he tried to move it, he let out a hiss, realizing it hurt.

The woman turned around. “You need more rest,” she said. “Contrary to what you may believe, you are no God. It’ll take a while for your body to heal.”

Rune surveyed the woman’s face as she walked over to the straw bed he was laying on, a mortar in her hands. The black patterns were inked to her face appeared to be symbols Rune did not comprehend. Black circled the rim of her eyes and her lips. Her hands that were exposed were also inked. She wore her dark hair in one long braid, and she did not look any older than Rune was.

“How long was I… out?” he asked.

“Three days.”

She sank in a chair and scooped up a greenish simple from the mortar with her bare hand. “Open your mouth,” she said.

“Where is the boy?” was the first thing Rune thought to ask. “Where is he?” His throat felt parched. He wanted water.

Her dark brows furrowed. “I said open your mouth.”

“You don’t want to give me orders, lady,” Rune spat.

The woman straightened up, her expression as hard as that of a murderer’s. “Do I look like a _lady_ to you?”

Rune blinked. “Well, no. You look like a hooligan. Now, tell me who the fuck you are and where the boy is.”

She drew a breath. “If it weren’t for me, you’d be dead. You _and_ the Prince.”

Rune froze altogether for a moment. Then his jaw tightened.

“My name is Raven,” the woman said. “I am not your enemy, Rune Degenhard.”

“The entire kingdom is my enemy now,” said Rune, struggling to get the words out.

The woman stood up and leaned over him, sliding her free hand along Rune’s cheek, coaxing him to open his mouth. “You must have a lot of questions,” she muttered softly.

He did. But he did not have the time.

Rune loosened his jaw and opened his mouth. She squeezed the leafy simple and dribbled its juices down his throat. It was more bitter than Black Rum.

He wouldn’t mind some Black Rum right about now.

He swallowed the liquid and winced hard. “Where is… Sehun?”

“Relax,” Raven said, wiping her hand with a cloth. “He was up all day yesterday looking after you.”

Rune’s eyebrows crunched together. “What?”

“He is with his cousin. Safe. For now. You need not worry.”

With a grunt, Rune sat up on the edge of the bed. “Where are they?” he drawled and rose to his feet. He staggered a bit before steadying himself again. Grabbing the cloak from the chair, he pulled it on.

As he limped toward the cottage’s door, Raven said, “The Dead won’t stop coming for you.”

Rune stopped, his hand on the door handle. He glanced back at the woman. “What do you mean?”

“Don’t you remember summoning the Dead at your will? To fight for you? To do your bidding?” she asked, crossing her arms over her chest.

Rune stood very still for a length as he recollected the night full of horrors. “I don’t know… what I did,” he said, looking down at his Death Mark. “Those… assassins. I’ve fought them before. Back at the… palace when…” he trailed off, looking up at the woman again. “You… have a sabre just like theirs.”

Raven wordlessly stared at him before she said, “The sabre’s made of Black Steel from Iloqens. Only an Iloqens metal can parry it.”

Rune recalled Sehun’s silversword that had blocked the black sabre while Rune’s ironsword was shattered with a single blow.

“Look here, woman. I don’t have time to listen to your backstory,” Rune spat harshly and turned around. “But you can continue to live because you saved my life. If you dare follow me again, I will cut you open.”

“Rune—”

He did not wait for her to speak as he shoved the door open and stepped out into the morning of mud and bleakness. He was halted by the bustling town that was all dismal and gloomy, as though a permanent darkness had befallen it.

He was in a town in Craiweth.

The town was mostly built on wood and mud, not a splotch of green in sight. The skies were grey, shrouded by fat, desolated clouds. The people were pale and diminutively built unlike Akrowians. They looked bloodless and starved.

“Watch out!” a man bayed, and Rune moved with a start as he hauled a goat by its leash past him. Clucking chickens were taken out of their cages to be chopped up. Drunk men were spitting and brawling outside the tavern. Promiscuous women gathered in the alleys, lifting their skirts for any men who walked up to them with a coin. Stray mongrels chased after mangy cats. The market in the middle of the town consisted of stalls that sold misshapen crops and flavourless meat cuts. The streets were teeming with beggars, who shivered under their rags that barely kept them warm from the cold.

No one paid Rune any heed as they continued with their morning routine. He came to a standstill before a wall that had the name Daz’gon painted on it in red.

“He is their saviour,” said Raven from behind. Rune did not turn around to look at her.

“Who is he?” he asked. “A new God?”

“The God of Men,” replied Raven, walking up to his side. Rune turned and glanced at the flags that swayed to the wind all over the town. They all had Daz’gon written on them. “He is the man who’d save us all says the prophecy he came to the Blood Cult with.”

Rune grimaced. “So… It’s a… man?”

“For now,” she said expressionlessly.

“You’re right. Soon, he’s going to be a dead meat,” Rune snarled.

Raven’s lips quirked into a smirk. “You shouldn’t say such things out loud in this town. Craiweth is the birthplace of the Blood Faith. Almost everyone here has been converted. The Blood Faith of the Blood Cult is the real faith.”

“So, where can I find Daz’gon?”

“Oh, you will find him. But first, patience, Rune. Walk with me.” She led the way. After a moment of reluctance, Rune followed. She drew the cowl over her head.

“You are part of this Blood Cult, then?”

“I used to be,” she said, leading him through an alley. “The Blood Cult was… very different before Daz’gon became our leader. He called himself a God. He had met the Maker and had spat in His face, rejected the Heavens that awaited him after death.”

Rune halted in his pace. “He’s a… Nekrón?”

Raven nodded her head. “One of the most powerful the world has seen. He returned to the living with unimaginable powers that were both his redemption and his curse.”

They wandered along a street. Rune glanced at the crying children on the roads. His gaze then turned to the dog that was staring right at him. It almost looked like a grey wolf, its grubby fur thick and grey and white. It was three times the size of an average mongrel. Its blue eyes followed Rune’s every movement before it stood up and started towards Rune.

He ignored the dog and looked at Raven again. “Are all Nekróns blessed with such… powers?” he asked.

Raven turned to him with a smile. “Most are.” She picked up Rune’s left hand and swiped her thumb along the Death Mark. “But not every Nekrón came back to the living land after killing the Diminisher. This is a Mark of victory. A Mark of a champion who defeated death.”

Rune retrieved his hand. “Who were those assassins?”

“Daz’gon’s pets,” Raven said, her mouth twisting bitterly. “Trained assassins, who are blessed by Daz’gon’s curse. They are called the Deathless.”

“What?”

“They are neither alive nor dead. They only do his work. Daz’gon has the power the transform the living to something as horrifying as the Deathless.”

“So, Rowana. She’s… one of them?”

“Rowana,” Raven repeated. “Her family was one of the first believers of Daz’gon.”

“You do know her, then. How do you… know all of this?”

She stopped at the bustling market. “I _was_ part of the Blood Cult. Until I realized what Daz’gon was turning his followers into.”

Rune took a moment to process all of this new information. He was imminently distracted by the statue in the middle of marketplace.

The statue was of a man, ripping a man’s chest apart.

“That is Daz’gon,” Raven said. “Ripping Idaemïr’s heart open.”

“But he didn’t kill Idaemïr.”

“No. But he will kill the Idaems’ faith sooner or later. The statue is meant to serve as a metaphor.” She took Rune’s hand once more. “Come with me.”

She took him back to the cottage.

“I am a Faithless,” Rune said. “I do not believe in any Maker. And I sure as fuck don’t give damn about a guy who thinks he can play God.”

“I know.”

Rune glanced back at the grey dog that was following him with his tongue lopping out of his mouth.

He found Sehun and Zelos at the back of the cottage, seated slabs of stone.

“Rune,” Zelos gasped and shot up to his feet. Sehun rose after him, eyes wide with something like relief. “You’re up.”

As the Captain threw his arms around Rune for a hug, Rune grunted in pain. Zelos backed away at once.

“Sorry,” he said, smiling. “You gave us… quite the scare, My Lord. If it hadn’t been for this strange woman, we would have…” he trailed off.

Rune’s eyes were now all on Sehun. The boy lowered his gaze.

“Let us go inside,” Raven said and entered the cottage through its backdoor. Zelos waited a few moments before he went after her.

Rune continued to stare at the Young Prince, wondering if his memories permitted the reality of what had happened. He recalled the boy holding him in a panic. He remembered Raven telling him Sehun had been by his side all day yesterday.

“You,” Sehun began at length. “look all right.”

Rune kept mum.

Sehun licked his lips. “I—” he started to say but was side-tracked by the dog that pranced over to him. The boy gasped and dropped to a crouch. “Dog.”

The dog sniffed his face and hands and whined softly before it turned around and went away.

Sehun rose back to his full height and rubbed the back of his neck. He then looked at Rune again. “I don’t know what you are,” he said then, tone turning slightly stern. He did not look he had recovered from the shock from the other night. Rune understood that. Nobody would be fine after witnessing the Dead rise back to life just to fight assassins that materialized from smokes and shadows.

“I am still… me,” Rune said at last. Sehun seemed a little startled by that.

His eyebrows drew together in a frown. “No,” he said quietly. “You’re not.”

With that, he ducked his head and walked into the cottage. Rune glanced at the horses hitched near the cottage. They were resting. Prymos looked at ease. Rune would check in on him later.

As he meandered his way inside, he found each of them standing in a corner of the cottage.

“Why would Rowana want to frame me for the Queen’s death?” Rune demanded from Raven.

The woman did not seem taken aback by that revelation. She must have known. “I don’t know why,” she said. “yet. All that I know is that her family has been involved with Blood Cult for many years.”

“Now, do you believe me?” Rune shot at Sehun. The boy remained silent, scowling. “What motive could she have to… Wait. What motive could Daz’gon have to kill the Queen?”

“Anarchy?” Zelos offered. “A religious statement?”

Rune shook his head, taking a seat back down on the bed when his chest began to clench. “What part do _I_ play in all of this?” He lifted his sharp gaze to Raven. “Why were you following me?”

Raven heaved a sigh. “You will get all of your answers soon, Rune Degenhard. For now, you must rest.” She picked up her sabre from the ground and buckled it around her waist. Then without a word, she strode out of the cottage.

Zelos wiped his face with a hand. “We all saw what you did,” he said. “My Lord, you… you brought Hell to the ground. The Dead… We saw them. And we saw… what you turned into.”

Rune’s gaze darted to the Young Prince, who looked unnerved. “I need… my rest,” Rune said, even though he was eager to seek the answers he needed. He reclined on the bed and closed his eyes after setting the cloak aside.

* * *

He was back in the void.

He waited to hear the voice.

“Only a little further, Rune Degenhard,” echoed the voice around him.

Rune tightened his fists. “I want to know who you are.”

“Only a little further…”

 

 

* * *

 

# C H A P T E R   F I V E

 

When he woke again, night had fallen. Something smelled good. Like corn pottage. Rune felt his stomach grumble. He could eat an entire feast right about now.

He cracked his eyes open to the faint light from the fireplace. Without raising his head, he saw the Young Prince standing before the fire, all of his hair let down from their braids. He combed his fingers through the lengthy, damp hair, gathering it all over on one side while he stared into the fireplace, barefooted. He was only clad in a single piece of robe.

Rune almost sat up but went rigid and held his breath instead. He did not make a single sound as he watched Sehun pull his fingers out of his hair to undo the laces of the robe he wore, his back still turned to Rune.

He felt his heart go just a little faster in his chest that ached. But he did not make the slightest movement as Sehun removed the robe.

It slipped from his sharp-angled shoulders with a nonpareil grace. Rune’s lustful eyes followed the robe that slithered all the way down the boy’s arms and unblemished back that had the gentle hues of a warm milk. He did not look away even as the robe fell to the ground and pooled around the Prince’s feet, whose heels were as pink as his elbows.

Rune swallowed hard, allowing his lecherous gaze to venture up Sehun’s legs.

_Fuck._

He had been wrong to seek the little boy in Sehun. The Young Prince was fully bloomed, verging on manhood that blanketed him in a sensuality that boggled Rune’s mind for a moment.

The subtle curves that followed along the sides of his waist and torso met his sharp hips that led Rune to leering obscenely at the protruding tailbone. Then even lower.

Sehun fetched a shirt and pulled it on, much to Rune’s dismay. He gritted his teeth and looked up at the ceiling as the Prince laced his shirt up before stepping into a pair of pants.

When Rune glanced over to him again, Sehun pulled all of his hair up and tied it high with a cord of leather. He turned around and froze, meeting Rune’s wide-awake eyes.

Rune was shameless enough to not to look away or pretend like he was not just watching the boy change his clothes. He had seen multifarious unspeakable things in the course of his life and his _death_. But nothing had held him as stunned as what he had just seen.

Then it got worse.

The boy’s face crimsoned fiercely, his cheekbones turned atrociously pink. Rune tried to force his blood to stay away from his loins.

“You’re awake,” Sehun muttered embarrassedly, his voice barely passing for a whisper. He picked up the silversword from the ground and buckled it around his waist before he walked over to the bed. “Raven… made you some pottage if you’re hungry.”

Rune finally breathed and blinked, turning his face away from the Young Prince as he tried to sit up. “She knows who you are,” he grunted, sitting upright at last, and looked down at his bandaged chest.

“I know,” Sehun said. He turned away momentarily to fetch some pottage from the pot suspended above the fire in the furnace. “Here.” He held the bowl out to Rune, walking back to him.

Rune arched an eyebrow at the pottage and then at the boy. “I don’t think a bowl of measly pottage would make do,” he grumbled. “I need the kind of food men eat.”

Sehun scowled. “You are sick.”

“I am not sick,” Rune spat and sat on the edge of the bed before he pushed himself up to his feet. “Where’s Zelos? And the woman?”

“I don’t know where Raven is. But Zelos is at the tavern.”

Rune turned around to face the Prince. Sehun quickly averted his gaze and stared into the bowl. “I need a shirt.”

“Raven left you some cleaner clothes over there.” He pointed Rune at the pile of clothes resting on top of wooden trunk. Rune limped over to it and pulled the shirt on before he started undoing his bloodied and stained trousers.

He heard the Young Prince clear his throat. When he glanced back, the boy hurried back to the fireplace and busied himself with pouring the pottage back into the pot. He did not turn around until Rune was done clothing himself.

“What are you?” Rune asked then. The boy turned and fixed him with a cocked eyebrow. “A prude? Why do you get so red when you see a naked man?”

Sehun’s expression hardened then. He glowered at Rune. “I am not… a prude! I’m a priest. I don’t see a lot of… naked men at the temples. There is nothing wrong with me. It’s you filthy soldiers, who strip down anywhere and everywhere like it’s nothing.”

Rune ignored him and picked up the first cloak he saw to pull it over his shoulders before he started for the door.

“Wait,” the boy rasped and crossed the room, a hand raised as though he were about to catch Rune’s arm. But he didn’t. He dropped the hand to rest atop the hilt of his sword. He looked conflicted, chewing on his lip nervously.

Rune wondered if he were about to thank him for saving his life.

But instead, he asked, “We’re not alone in this world, are we?”

Rune mustered the boy in silence for a beat. “No, we’re not,” he said at length. Sehun frowned deeper. Rune stepped closer, head bowed low to meet the Prince’s hazel-brown eyes. With only a few small inches separating them, he heard Sehun’s breathing labour lightly. But the boy did not look away from Rune’s eyes. “There’s more to this world beyond your Gods and faith,” spat Rune in a low, threatful voice. “What you saw the other night was only a small margin of what I have seen. If you believe life and death are so simple that you could learn all about them in your scriptures, you could not be more wrong.”

Sehun’s face withered just a bit as he lowered his head.

“I remember my mother telling me stories about… how my grandfather kept the realm’s peace,” the Prince said quietly. “and how those that came before him acquired the lands of Raenythör. The very soil we walk on belongs to only the Raiganiels, who sought blessings from Idaemïr after accepting His faith. She told me that the Amulet of Idaemïr and Idaemïr Himself had guarded our bloodline. I always wondered what they guarded us from. We were the Kings and Queens of Raenythör. There was nothing our soldiers couldn’t guard us from. But… my mother was assassinated just like that. I was refusing to accept anything the scriptures and the tomes I studied for years could not explain. But I saw them. With my very own eyes. I saw those assassins of the Blood Cult. And I saw the Dead that… saved us… under _your_ command.” He raised his head once more to look into Rune’s eyes. “And I saw what you turned into.”

Rune frowned. “What do you mean?”

The boy did not say more. He pulled away from Rune and brushed past him.

After a moment of mulling, Rune went after him. There were at least a billion thoughts stabbing at his brain as he exited the cottage and stepped out into the silent street. When he looked up, he noticed the night had no stars. He heard a dog bark somewhere in the distance.

“We shouldn’t trust this woman,” Rune told Sehun, catching up to him. “I have yet to find out why she was following me and how she… knows so much about me.”

“I don’t trust her,” Sehun said. “But if you are right about Rowana and the Blood Cult murdering my mother, then she is the only one that can save your neck from the block.”

“I never knew you cared so much for my life,” said Rune with a small smirk.

Sehun stopped and turned to Rune with a ferocious glower. “I do not. I care to avenge my mother. That is all. And if Rowana is the murderer, she should not be anywhere near my brother or the throne.”

Rune shrugged and winced when the wound on his shoulder hurt. He was distracted by the dog that walked over to them with springy steps. It was the same dog that had followed Rune before.

Halting a few feet away from them, it panted, blinking at Sehun.

A smile stretched Sehun’s lips as he adopted a crouch and patted his knee twice to beckon the dog to come forth.

The wolf-like dog that was almost the size of a bear slowly made its way over to Sehun.

“He is huge,” Sehun snickered and ran his fingers through the dog’s fur that had grime and mud sticking to it.

Rune was briefly brought back a decade to the revisit a fond memory of the boy telling him that one day, he’d like to keep a dog and name him Babypaw. But his mother had not allowed him because he was too wayward and irresponsible to keep one.

“He seems to like you,” Rune remarked as the dog nudged its nose into Sehun’s hand to sniff it before it started licking the Prince’s face.

And in that moment, Rune saw the happiest Sehun had ever been.

“He finds me every time I come out,” said Sehun. “I even named him.”

Rune blinked. “You… named the mongrel? We’re not keeping it.”

“I’m the Young Prince of Raenythör,” Sehun said through his teeth, glaring up at Rune. “If I want to keep him, you do not get to have a say, soldier.”

Rune huffed heavily. “What are you calling him, then? Babypaw?”

Sehun stiffened at once, his hands buried in the dog’s thick fur. He glanced up at Rune in horror. “What? Of course, not. That sounds ridiculous.”

“Well, it was what you wanted to name a dog when you were a child.”

“Well, I wanted many ridiculous things when I was a child, didn’t I?”

Rune loured.

Sehun turned back to the dog with a smile that spelled his complacency in having gotten under Rune’s skin. “I named him Vrangrord.”

Rune started past the dog and the prince, heading for the tavern from which he heard merry tunes and loud dissonance. Sehun and the dog followed.

He found Zelos in the tavern with a harlot on his lap. Rune marched up to him and cleared his throat.

“My Lord,” Zelos gasped and withdrew from the harlot. “Your Grace.” He bowed his head to Sehun, who joined Rune, leaving the dog outside.

“Where is the hooded woman?” Rune inquired.

“She said she will be back very soon.”

Rune nodded and sat down at the table. He then wrenched the tankard out of Zelos’ hand and drained its content down his throat.

“I need something stronger,” he told Zelos.

“Right away.” As he hurried to get what Rune ordered, the Young Prince sat down and watched Rune greedily wolf down the half-eaten meat and potatoes before him. It was not the best meal he had had, but he was no mood to complain.

“You southerners are very peculiar,” said an unfamiliar voice. Rune lifted his head and glanced at the harlot that was looking down at him with a sultry smirk. She ran her hand along the back of Rune’s shoulders before she took a seat on his lap.

Her strong perfume stung Rune’s nose. Her curly hair and dark skin smelled like sandalwood. She was wearing close to nothing.

“Do you have any money?” she purred, a hand caressing a side of Rune’s bearded face.

“No,” Rune said roughly.

The woman frowned, but only for a heartbeat. “Well, I suppose… I could make time for a man of your… kind.”

Rune could certainly use some of this. But then he saw Sehun’s enraged reaction as the boy observed them intently.

“So, are you a hunter?” the harlot murmured into his ear before she took hold of one of Rune’s hands and slipped it under her blouse to cup her breast.

“Of some sort,” Rune told her, smiling. He briefly glimpsed Sehun once more. The Prince’s jaw was locked, his hands were fisted on the table. Then sharply, he turned his face away as the woman started to drag her lips along Rune’s neck.

“Here you go,” Zelos said, returning with a bottle of mead. “This is the strongest they have.”

Rune uncapped the bottle with his teeth before quaffing a few mouthfuls.

“Well, I see you’ve found yourself another man,” Zelos told the harlot spitefully, though she was no longer listening to him. She slid a hand into Rune’s shirt and caressed his chest over the bandages.

Sehun was staring, eyes unblinking and flaring. They then rose to look at Raven, who stomped over to their table with her cowl pulled all the way down. Grabbing the harlot’s skinny arm, she hauled the woman away from Rune’s lap.

“Get lost,” she spat at the harlot. Rune scowled at Raven, then. “You shouldn’t be wasting away in a tavern,” she told Rune.

Rune took another large draft of the mead before he looked up at her. “What else do you suggest we do?”

“We have to get going,” Raven said. “As soon as you are good enough to ride again.”

“Where are we going?” Zelos inquired.

“It won’t be long before the Deathless find you again,” she said. “And you need your questions answered, don’t you?” She arched an eyebrow beneath the shadow of her cowl.

Rune drank some more.

“Stop it,” he then heard the Young Prince order, yanking the bottle away from him.

“All right,” Rune spat. “When do we leave?”

“Are you good to ride?” asked Raven.

“Well, I was most certainly good to ride that girl a moment ago.”

“He’s always been like this,” Zelos muttered to Raven with a low chuckle.

“We leave at first light.” With that, Raven stormed out of the tavern. Rune leaned over the table, grunting as his healing wounds smarted, and prised the bottle back from Sehun’s hand.

“How did you do that, Rune?” Zelos queried with a serious expression. “We obviously believe you about the assassins from the shadows. But how did you… do what you did?”

As Rune knocked back more mead, his head gyrated heavily. “I have no idea,” he said. He then raised his left hand. “It was… _this_.”

“The Mark of a Nekrón?” said Zelos.

Rune stared at the Death Mark. “It’s more than that.”

“What happened when you were dead?” It was the Young Prince who asked the question now. “When you… faced the Diminisher.”

Rune continued to speechlessly stare at the Mark. Then he drank some more until his vision began to blur a little.

“I think we should get you back for some rest,” Zelos suggested, rising to his feet to grab onto Rune’s arm.

“I got him,” Sehun said, taking hold of Rune’s forearm. “You get your rest, Zelos.”

Zelos was happy to let go of Rune as he turned his attention back to the harlot.

Though Rune was certain he could still walk straight, he let the boy shepherd him out of the tavern. The dog that awaited Sehun leaped up to its paws and skipped around excitedly before it hurried after Sehun.

“You’re really keeping Babypaw?” Rune drawled, leaning heavily against the Prince.

Sehun curled an arm around Rune’s waist to hold him up. “His name is Vrangrord,” he growled.

“But you always wanted a Babypaw,” Rune muttered, his beard brushing the top of Sehun’s head. “Just like how you always wanted me to be your friend. Just like how you wanted marry me when you were older.”

He felt the boy stiffen a bit at his side. “I do not recall any of it,” Sehun lied.

“You do not remember marrying me in the pavilion?”

“You are drunk.”

Rune threw his arm over Sehun’s shoulders. “You’ve said your vows. You took me as your husband.”

The Prince pulled away, then. Rune almost lost his footing as he staggered to the side. The dog yipped at him, putting itself between him and Sehun, baring its teeth.

Sehun smirked. “Good boy, Vrangrord.” He rubbed the dog’s head. When the massive dog stood tall, it reached up to Sehun’s waist.

Rune cursed under his breath as he slogged his way back to the cottage. The Prince and the dog fell behind with Sehun skipping around with the mongrel.

Raven was not in when he burst into the cottage. Rune drunkenly stumbled a couple of times before he felt a strong grip on his arm that steadied him.

“Let’s get you to bed, old man,” Sehun muttered.

“I thought you’re not allowed to touch a Nekrón,” Rune said drowsily.

Sehun said nothing as he helped Rune get to bed.

Perched at its foot, Rune caught the boy’s wrist. Sehun paused and blinked into Rune’s eyes.

He had spent many years at Alastríona’s side, serving her as steadfast servant. A soldier who’d lay down his life for his Queen. A lover from a distant. But he had never had the courage nor the heart to fight for her as a lover. He never would have mustered the grit to face Hell for her affection. He loved her but there were just so many things he would not have risked for her love in return.

He raised his other hand to cup a side of Sehun’s face. The boy was strong. He was brave. But not as brave as he was professing to be.

Rune lifted his fingers to Sehun’s chin and tipped it up to meet his beautiful brown eyes. Sehun shuddered lightly when Rune’s rough fingers touched his skin. “I’m not going to let anything happen to you,” he promised the boy in a whisper.

For a stretch, the world seemed to slow down around them. The Prince read into that promise with his breaths. “Wh-What?” he let out.

“I took my oath as a Vanguard to protect the Queen and the Kingdom. I promised her to protect you. I failed her once. I will not fail again.”

The boy’s lips parted, his eyes wide with astonishment. “I don’t need you to protect me just to honour your word to my mother.”

Rune retrieved his hand from the boy’s chin. His eyelids were falling heavy. The backdoor swung open and Raven stepped in, a longbow and a quiver of arrows in her hands. Her eyes flitted to both Rune and Sehun.

Sehun scowled and straightened up, turning his face away from Rune. “Right.”

Rune removed the cloak before he lied down.

“You ought to get some sleep too, Prince,” said Raven. “It is a long ride tomorrow.”

“Where are we going?” Rune heard Sehun ask.

“The Temple of Ruinz.” She snapped a firewood in half over her knee and popped it into the furnace.

Sehun walked over to her. “The Temple of Ruinz?” he gasped. “It doesn’t exist.”

“Not to Idaems,” she said bluntly.

The Prince’s lips turned bitterly. “Why would we go anywhere you want us to?”

Raven pulled her cowl down and looked daggers at Sehun. “Because I’m all that you’ve got now. If you think the Deathless will stop with your mother, you are wrong. And not even your Idaemïr could stop Daz’gon once your people’s faith has shifted.”

“My people’s faith will not waver that easily,” Sehun argued.

 Raven stepped closer to the Prince. “Your people followed Idaemïr because of your ancestors. But without a Raiganiel that’s faithful to Idaemïr ruling Raenythör, the people will _easily_ cant toward the Blood Faith that promises them equality, justice, and power.”

Rune was too inebriated to interject. He silently watched them argue back forth about their ridiculous faiths.

“Daz’gon is a charlatan that manipulates people into believing his beliefs,” Sehun spat. “He is a man. Not a God.”

“The believers make the God,” Raven countered.

Sehun’s hand was on his sword’s hilt now. “Whose side are you on?”

“The Blood Cult.” She glanced briefly to Rune. “But I will neither vouch for Daz’gon, who claims to be God, nor the Raiganiels, who have ruled for centuries stepping on the backs of those that do not put their faith in Idaemïr. Like you, _Your Highness._ You’re worse. You’re a _priest_.”

The Prince was panting with rage now.

“The world is beyond your scriptures, Prince,” said Raven, echoing something Rune had told the boy before. She then shoved past the boy and walked up to the bed’s side. “I am going to change your bandages.” She told Rune and started unlacing his shirt.

While she did it, Rune noticed the Young Prince’s dangerous stare. He watched Raven’s hands skid along Rune’s body like a hawk for a moment before he stormed out of the cottage. Rune heard the dog bark from outside.

Raven paused with her fingers pressed to a side of Rune’s neck, her eyes boring into Rune’s as she bowed her head.

“You are meant for great things, Rune Degenhard,” she whispered, hand rising to cup a side of Rune’s jaw.

* * *

They did set forth for the Temple of Ruinz at sunup. According to Raven, it should not take longer than a day’s journey to reach the temple.

Raven had found the Prince his own horse. Wide awake at last, Rune realized now more than ever that he needed to be extremely chary. Especially of the hooded woman, who was too secretive. But she had been right. She was all that they had for now.

Sehun must have given Babypaw a good scrubbing last night for the dog’s fur looked clean. The dog too readied itself to go on a journey, skipping around Sehun excitedly.

“Where were you last night?” Rune asked Zelos, tightening the saddle on Prymos. The black beast nickered at the dog when Babypaw sniffed him.

The dog did not seem startled in the least bit as it snarled viciously at Prymos like an attacking wolf.

The stallion rose to his hindlegs and neighed deafeningly to warn the dog. Babypaw jumped back, but the dog quickly regained its composure and bayed angrily at the horse.

“There, there,” Rune rasped, patting on Prymos’ neck and nose to calm him down. “Not worth our while, boy.”

Sehun called the dog then. “Vrangrord,” he chirped, and the dog ran over to him at once. When Rune caught the boy’s gaze, he realized the Prince was glowering at him, crouched as he petted the dog. He was mad about something. Rune wondered what that was all about.

“Anyway,” Zelos said as he mounted his horse. He had a funny simper plastered to his face. “I was on a very pretty lady’s lap last night. And she was definitely worth _my_ while.”

Rune smiled at the Captain. Zelos had gotten rid of the clothes he had been wearing from Akrowyth. He was now dressed in a riding raiment like Sehun, who traded his showy overcoat and undershirt for a set of dark trousers, hunting boots, and shirt along with a black cloak. Raven had also brought Rune a new pair of riding pants, shirt, and a brown leather vest.

“I’m glad you had that fun,” said Rune, struggling to mount Prymos. “Because it’ll be the most fun you’d be having for a while now.”

Seeing Rune wincing as he tried to climb onto the saddle, Sehun drew away from his own horse and the dog and started toward Rune. He stopped abruptly on his way, eyebrows furrowing into a black look.

“Here. Let me give you a hand,” said Raven as she held up a hand. The Prince spun around aggressively and clambered up his horse with an effortless grace.

“It’s fine,” Rune told the woman as he gripped onto Prymos’ reins and pulled himself up on the saddle.

Once they were all mounted, Raven led the party out of the abysmal town. Babypaw followed with springy steps at Sehun’s side.

Back on the road, Rune kept glimpsing the Prince unconsciously. He recalled the heat that was pressed to his back when they were riding together.

Sehun was avoiding looking at Rune altogether.

“So, do you live all by yourself back at that cottage?” Zelos asked Raven, as though to make conversation.

Raven did not answer that question as she kept her gaze straight ahead on the road.

Zelos cleared his throat. “How do you know those Deathless won’t attack us out of nowhere again?”

That question Raven answered. Sternly. Without looking at Zelos. “There aren’t many Deathless. Daz’gon wouldn’t allow them to be sacrificed. For now, he’d be pondering about what had happened and how to overcome it. He wouldn’t send any more Deathless until he’s sure.”

Sehun scoffed. Raven turned her sharp gaze to the boy. “This is what happens when you meddle with life and blood,” he said.

“This wouldn’t have happened if your religion and the sect had been fair to all,” Raven shot back at him.

“Idaems have always been fair to those who are faithful.”

“How do you know Rowana?” Rune diverted the subject at hand to defuse the tension.

Raven’s shoulders tautened. “I do not know her personally. I know of her and her family from Hadräze. They were some of the oldest members of the Blood Cult. When she married the Crown Prince, we knew it was only a matter of time before chaos ascended in her name.”

“You said her family has been part of the Blood Cult for long. Was that before Daz’gon?” Rune inquired.

Raven nodded her head. “I believe so. But like Daz’gon, they also wanted radical changes. They wanted the power.”

“What if Garan is in danger?” Sehun mused, mostly to himself as he frowned down. “This is more than just about sitting on the throne. This is blood curses and religious usurpation.”

“How do you know me?” Rune asked Raven. “How did you find me?”

“You will soon find out, Rune,” she replied.

By sundown, they were no longer on the roads. Raven led them through the forests as the skies turned purple and black, speckled with gleaming stars.

Owls hooted as they roused to greet the forthcoming darkness. Crickets chirped, and the branches rustled against the howling wind.

Ahead of them all, the dog marched, bold and predatory, making sure their path was safe.

“What are the chances of this being a trap?” Rune heard Zelos whisper to Sehun.

“Then I will the one to take that bitch’s head,” Sehun muttered back.

Zelos flinched. “For a priest, you sure do cuss a lot, cousin.”

Rune felt Prymos shudder under him.

Babypaw came to a standstill. He looked up at the sky and howled.

The horses halted at the dog’s command. Rune gazed ahead, his jaw falling slack at the ruins of a temple cloaked by thickets of trees and bushes. Colossal menhirs stood erect from the ground with crevices and inscriptions on them.

“The Blood Faith was once a great religion,” said Raven. “Before the Raiganiels razed it to the ground in the name of Idaemïr.”

Rune felt his heartbeat quicken.

“This great religion saw all as equal. But as the Raiganiels took over the land with the promise of Idaemïr’s graces, the olden Kings made sure Blood Faith was obliterated entirely. But like any great faith, the Blood Faith lived on. This was once a peaceful religion, now turned to aggression.”

Rune dismounted his horse after Raven.

“There are still a few that believe in the old Blood Faith,” said Raven. “Not all of us follow Daz’gon’s murderous teachings. There are some of us who worship no God. The religion is what makes us. There is no God for us. Daz’gon wants to be God.”

 _“Come in, Rune,”_ he heard the voice that tugged him toward the temple.

“Go,” said Raven.

“You hear him?” Rune asked.

Raven nodded.

Rune looked ahead at the open entrance of the temple that vaguely resembled a cavern. As he stepped toward it, Zelos, Sehun, Raven, and the dog followed.

“Put your judgment aside if you want to enter,” Raven told Sehun.

With a brusque nod, Sehun walked after Rune.

Rune paused at the entrance to take in the ambience. He could possibly count on one hand the number of times he had gone to a temple of God. Nothing raised the hairs on the nape of his neck like stepping into the Temple of Ruinz did.

His blood coursed murderously through his veins as he took another step forward.

His head was swarming with questions.

“I don’t have a good feeling about this,” whispered Sehun, and his voice still echoed down the dark hall.

“So, she hates us,” Zelos remarked as Raven walked ahead. “She thinks Raiganiels are monsters.”

Sehun looked at Rune with a frown. “Do you believe that?” he asked, talking to Rune first time today.

Rune glanced at him once before he turned his attention back to Raven. “I’m not sure what I believe anymore,” he let out breathlessly.

Wandering through the hall, Rune felt his skin crawl. The wind murmured in his ears. His heart galloped miles. He never believed in religions or the Maker. But this temple was something else. Every inch he advanced made his blood boil.

They drew up to a halt eventually.

Raven stepped aside to reveal a shrine. The rest of them ceased to breathe for a moment. Rune’s eyes enlarged at the glory of the shrine amid the ruins and rubbles.

Purple and blue glowed around the altar of the shrine. Symbols covered the stones that made the altar. Candles were lit around the shrine that was glowing on its own. Tiny lights flickered around it like firebugs. It was nothing like Rune had ever seen before.

He dropped to his knees before it.

“This was our faith,” Raven declared. “You hear it because it is the faith you were born with.”

Rune raised his left hand to the altar. His Death Mark flared up at once. His eyes closed.

When he opened them again, he was in the void.

“Only a person born to parents who are believers of the Blood Faith could meddle with life and death, Rune,” said the voice, clearer than all the times it had spoken to him before.

Rune looked down to find himself standing on a path made of stone. He moved a step. He didn’t fall into the void.

“Who are you?” he asked.

“I am the Blood Faith. I have no face, no existence apart from my faith.”

Rune, barely breathing, strolled down the path that was paved for him until he reached the shrine from the temple. But it was not completely identical. There was a battle-axe stuck in the middle of the altar. For a beat, the battle-axe was all that Rune could focus on. It wasn’t something mortal men could forge. He recognized the battle-axe. He had fought against that battle-axe in his death for his life.

Hergroc’s battle-axe. The Diminisher’s Axe.

“I need answers,” he said.

“And you will get them. Your fate has led you here. And during your journey, you have learned much. But most of all, you have learned who you could be.”

“I don’t know… who I am,” Rune panted out into the grey of the void.

“You know not of your parents. But you were born to those who believed in the Blood Faith. And their graces passed down to you.”

“I don’t understand,” Rune let out.

“When you died and faced the Diminisher Hergroc, what happened?”

Rune swallowed before slowly saying, “I challenged Him,” he said. “to a fight.”

“And you won.”

Rune kept his eyes on the glowing altar. “I… did.”

“You were in Hell. You faced the mighty Hergroc and destroyed him,” the voice said, flitting around Rune. “The Diminisher is the only thing that stands between Hell and ground. Without Him, the Dead can’t pass through to Hell, leaving them stranded on the ground.”

Rune’s heart was pounding harder. “No…”

“They come seeking _you_ , Rune Degenhard, because you alone had killed Hergroc.”

“No.”

“There has to be a Diminisher,” the voice said. “And there will be.”

Rune fell on his knees before the altar and the battle-axe. His eyes were set ablaze, the Death Mark scorching like magma. He felt the hellfire surge through his body. And as he wrapped his hands around the handle of the battle-axe, the inscriptions on the axe shone red.

“The Dead will be yours to command until you return to Hell,” the voice said. “For that you are the Diminisher now.”

Letting out a monstrous roar, Rune yanked the Diminisher’s Axe out of the stone. He saw the veins on his arms glow red like the inscriptions on the battle-axe.

“As Daz’gon rises, befouling the Living, you will destroy him, delivering the Dead.”

The void blacked out and when Rune’s flew open again, he was back in the temple with Raven, Zelos, and Sehun gawking at him.

Rune fought for breath for a length, surveying the battle-axe in his hands.

“How did you…” Zelos began but trailed off as Rune rose to his feet and turned around.

The red on the battle-axe and on his arms and eyes had died.

“That was my calling,” Raven said, walking up to Rune. “I was told to bring you here.”

“This can’t be,” Rune exhaled, gripping the battle-axe in his hands. “I’m the…” He couldn’t finish. He looked at Sehun instead. The boy looked horrified beyond description. Than without a word, Sehun turned around and hurried out of the temple.

* * *

“A few weeks ago, I was just the Captain of the Queen’s Guard. A Raiganiel with no real title to himself,” Zelos said as they sat around the fire after pitching the tents in the forest. “Now, I am… eating Tuk Plums with… the Diminisher.” He sank his teeth into the reddish plum Raven had brought along with her.

Rune clenched his jaw. “I am not Hergroc,” he said, glancing at the battle-axe that poked out from the saddlebags. “I am nobody.”

“Your destiny says otherwise,” said Raven.

“I don’t believe in destinies,” Rune spat.

“Well, do you believe what you just saw and learned?” She put the sabre she was whetting down and faced him. “Do you believe that the other night, you summoned the Dead?”

“I’m not of Blood Faith,” Rune growled. “Those people killed Alastríona.”

“Those were Daz’gon’s Deathless,” Raven said. “You are not one of them.”

“So, Daz’gon has all these powers because he insulted the Maker and the Heavens,” Zelos said. “And when he came back to life as a Nekrón, he was cursed to be a Deathless. And now he’s spreading his curse. But Rune… Rune _killed_ the Diminisher. And the Dead can’t enter Hell without the Diminisher. Which is why… they keep coming to _him_. And Daz’gon wants to restore the Black Cult’s former glory. Only through violent means. And he threatens the peace of Raenythör. If more people turned to the Blood Faith, he’d have more of the Deathless. Am I up to speed?”

“Yes,” said Raven.

“Does everyone who follow the religion turn into the Deathless?”

“Daz’gon feeds on their worshipping. But not everyone can qualify to be a Deathless. But many do volunteer to hang between life and death just to serve him.”

“What does that mean? To hang between life and death?”

“They must let go of their free will. They serve Daz’gon and nothing more. They are living but they no longer have a choice.”

“Rowana seemed like she had a choice,” Zelos said. “She didn’t look like one of those assassins that attacked us.”

“Not every Deathless looks like that,” replied Raven.

“Okay… What I don’t understand now is why… is all of this happening now?” Zelos asked, and Rune had the same doubt.

“Because that’s destiny,” Raven said. “Daz’gon has gotten more powerful lately. If Rune doesn’t stop him, then all hope’s lost for the free people of Raenythör.”

“Does that mean Rune has a choice? If he doesn’t want to take Hergroc’s place, he doesn’t have to?”

Rune was grateful for the questions Zelos was laying out because he honestly couldn’t muster a single comprehensive statement right now.

“I believe that decision rests with him,” muttered Raven. “But whether he takes Hergroc’s place in Hell to guard the Dead or not, he is still the Diminisher. Until he dies and another Diminisher is chosen.” She turned to Rune again. “Now, you must figure out what your next step is going to be.”

Rune had mulled over it all evening. “We are going back to Akrowyth,” he declared.

“What?” Zelos rasped. “Why?”

“The King needs to know. This fight in the end is more than just between Gods and religions.”

“But you have to find this Daz’gon guy.”

“I mess with his plans, he will come looking for me,” Rune said. “I want _him_. Not his Deathless. Whatever Rowana is doing, she’s doing his bidding. And we have enough to convince Garan. We have to act fast before we lose our advantage.”

“I see no advantage. Garan is not going to believe us.”

“He will if his own brother, who’s been devoted to the scriptures of Idaemïr all his life, told him.”

Raven frowned. “Do you think he will side with you?” she asked. Rune blinked. “He is an Idaem. A Raiganiel before all else. He’s steadfast to his religion and to his name. Would he aid _you_? He worships Idaemïr and the Maker. Why would an Idaem priest side with the Diminisher?”

Rune lowered his head before he raised it again to glance around. The Young Prince had been gone for quite some time.

“Because like you said, he’s a Raiganiel before all else,” Rune muttered. “He doesn’t show it. But he cares for this kingdom and its people.”

“So long they worship Idaemïr,” Raven scoffed.

“What is it with you and Raiganiels?” Zelos barked at her then. “Not all of us are evil. As far as I’m concerned, His Grace has done nothing to taunt your faith.”

Raven kept mum, grinding her teeth.

“He’s been gone for too long. I’m going to go look for him,” Rune said and stood up, taking a Tuk Plum with him.

As he pottered through the forest in the direction he had seen the Young Prince go earlier, he tossed the plum in the air and caught it before the back of his left hand felt a sharp twinge.

He did not stop to look at the Dead that was watching him from the trees.

_Destiny…_

Until today, he had refused to believe that his existence in this world meant more than what he was born with. Which was a name that meant nothing. But he had now seen what he was to be, what his fate had in store for him. He had come face-to-face with the horror he was destined to become.

He was a Faithless, who looked down upon the Maker and the Gods and everyone who worshipped them. But in a single day, he chosen to believe the old Blood Faith.

It made Rune wonder who his parents were. As a child, he grew up in a devastated orphanage and there were nights he and the other children were forced to go to bed without supper. The only thing his mother had left for him when she abandoned him at the orphanage’s doorstep was his name. At the age of five, Rune had held a kitchen knife to the Housemother’s neck before he had run away from the orphanage. The rest of his childhood was spent on the street and at the mercy of the people who spared him some morsels bread and a few coins.

When he joined the Queen’s Guard at the age of seventeen, he hadn’t known his life would change so much for the better. He was loyal to the Queen and the Raiganiels. Every battle he won for her brought him a step higher. And one day, she told him that he would soon be promoted as the Vanguard of the house Raiganiel. Rune, at that time, was more delighted with the fact that he would be serving Alastríona much closer at her side.

But when he took his oath to be the Vanguard and protect the Raiganiels, he had not done it for the privileges that entailed the honour. He had taken the oath because he wanted to protect the woman he loved and her family with everything he had.

He also recalled the backlash Alastríona had received for appointing a Nekrón as her Vanguard. She had stood up for Rune even then, calling him a friend before a soldier.

Her time was short in this world. Rune and everyone else had believed she would be the best Raiganiel ruler Raenythör had seen. But she had never believed that herself. She had always worried that fate had a different plan for them all.

He heard the dog’s soft panting and followed the sound until he found Sehun perched on top of a rock as he took the branchlet from the dog’s mouth before lobbing it across the grassy expanse. Babypaw galloped after the stick and caught it.

Rune licked his lips and held out the plum to the boy. Sehun ignored it as he accepted the stick from the dog and hurled it over once more for the dog to fetch.

With a defeated sigh, Rune sank on an edge of the rock, back facing Sehun’s. The boy was sulking. And Rune knew why.

“I didn’t know, okay?” he muttered. “I didn’t know I was… born to parents of the Blood Faith.”

The Prince said nothing as he slowly scratched the dog’s head when it sat down on the ground before him.

“I didn’t know who I was,” Rune added, swallowing with difficulty. “If I had known, I never would have served your family for so long. I would never have lied to your mother. I know I don’t always see eye-to-eye with your religion. But I respected your mother and her faithfulness. And I don’t want anything to do with the people that murdered her.”

Rune fell silent for a moment. Then it came to his attention that Raven was right. Sehun was a Raiganiel before all else. But he was also one of the most well-read savant in the entire kingdom. There was no way he would not have known about his ancestors wiping the Blood Faith and the Blood Cult off the face of existence.

“Do you… think what the Raiganiels that came before you did to the Blood Cult was right?” he asked the boy. What if Raven was also right about Sehun not wanting to side with a man who was tainted with immeasurable sins and curses? Rune was not only a Nekrón. He was born with the Blood Faith. And he was condemned to sentinel Hell and the Dead. He was the Diminisher with so much blood on his hands.

What were the odds of a pristine priest of Idaemïr favouring the filth Rune was?

“Do you despise the Blood Faith? Even those that followed it before Daz’gon?” Rune asked.

Sehun broke his silence then. “I am an Idaem,” he said sternly. “My forefathers made Raenythör a great kingdom in the graces of Idaemïr. You are everything I was taught to oppose.”

Rune felt a pang in his heart, and he did not know what that was all about. But what the boy said hurt. For the first time.

“You were taught to hate me,” Rune muttered, braving himself to reach out and take hold of the boy’s hand. “But putting aside all of what you were taught to believe and who you were taught to be… do _you_ hate me?”

Sehun looked at Rune’s hand that was curled around his own with a sidelong glance and a frown. For a beat, as the Prince’s fingers twitched, Rune thought Sehun might just hold his hand back.

But then the boy recoiled with a start, yanking his hand back. “I cannot betray my faith,” Sehun murmured. “And I will not. But that isn’t what this is about.”

Rune slowly nodded his head and turned it away. The dog walked over to Rune to sniff the fruit in his hand. He didn’t stop the beast when it latched its teeth around the plum and took it away to eat it under a tree.

“I remember the battle,” Rune said. Even though Sehun was not looking at him, he knew the boy was listening. “I was sent to lead the troops against mercenaries in Iloqens. I had not… seen it coming. We were ambushed, and I saw the soldiers get slaughtered right before my eyes. I saw a young man quake with fear for his life as a blade came at his chest. I didn’t know what had made me take his place. I knew my time was not over yet. I fought to stay alive. Everything that happened next is… blurry. I saw and felt the hellfire around me. I was faced with the demon lord of the Hell. Hergroc… said to me that He would not be merciful. I heard His voice many times in my dreams after that. But when I was faced with him, he drew my scimitar and I challenged him to a duel. If I win, I get to live. If I lose, he may do whatever he wished with my soul. Either way, I was not ready to let go. I fought. And I won. Barely. But I did win. When I woke up again, some called it a miracle, others dubbed it a curse. But then I returned home. Alastríona saw me and with tears in her eyes, she said that she was glad I’m alive because she was not ready to let of me yet.”

He saw the Prince ball his hands into tight fists, keeping his eyes on the dog that was greedily chomping into the fruit.

“Until that moment,” Rune continued. “I was just an ordinary man.” He scrubbed his beard with a hand. “I’m not a monster. But I know I’m everything that goes against your beliefs. Even so, I am still… just the man you used to look at with more reverence than he deserved. I was born a nobody. But you were born a Prince. You are the Prince of Raenythör before you are a priest of Idaemïr. And that is why I know you will put our differences aside and help me put an end to this brewing war between these two religions. I know you are a Raiganiel. But you are not your forefathers.”

Sehun continued to stay mumchance for a long while as he glowered into the empty night. Then at length, he said, “I am not my mother either.” He stood up from the rock and confronted Rune with a dark look. His reddened eyes pierced into Rune’s soul. “I see the way you look at me at times. I am not her.”

Rune rose from his seat and said, “I know that. I didn’t—”

“I don’t want you to protect me just because of your word to her, just because of your duty. I am not my mother and you have no idea how much it kills me every time I realize I am a piece of my mother, whom you loved.”

Blood drummed in Rune’s ears. “Sehun,” he said the name for the first time in a very long time. And he took note of the way the boy reacted with a flinch as the moonlight cascaded down his hair, pearlescent streaks running between the silver strands. He was wearing it in his usual half-tied fashion again.

“No. Do not,” the Prince warned him. He seemed both enraged—seething with an anger Rune did not quite comprehend—and disappointed. “I am not my mother,” he said once more. “I am not my father. I am my own person. But you do not see me that way. You have never seen me that way. I am just an aftermath of my mother you feel obligated to watch over because it is your duty, it is the promise you have made my mother. I do not wish for you to do that. I don’t need your protection, Rune Degenhard.”

Rune looked at him for the first time. _Really_ looked at him. Not as a duplicate of Alastríona. But as Sehun Raiganiel, a man of his own person. And there was suddenly something that wasn’t there before.

“I resent you,” Sehun admitted then. “for pretending like you care about me.”

Rune stepped forward. “I _do_ care about you,” he spat through his teeth.

“No, you do not,” the Prince snapped back. “You think you do because you cared for my mother. It is not the same.”

Rune wasn’t sure why the Young Prince’s words were affecting him as much as they did. He fumbled for answers, for his own defence.

“I resent you for all that. But more than anything,” Sehun said, eyes blazing with anger. “I resent you for not seeing _me_. I was a child once, yes. But I am not a child anymore. I don’t need you to be my friend. When I left for Nabooru, I took the oaths I made to you with me. I studied hard, really hard. I did everything I was told to do to excel in every arena. I wanted to be _better_ than my mother. I wanted to prove everyone wrong about me taking after my zany father. I wanted to be strong. I wanted to be worthy of people’s attention. But most of all, _yours_.”

Rune was frozen to the ground. His heart was clenching in ways he never thought it could. He had experienced many things in his life. But being in receipt of a passionate, heartfelt, strong, furious confession like this was not one of them. Rune had always been a warrior second to none. But he had never been a gentle lover. He had never received _any_ sort of amorous confession. The only marriage proposal he had gotten was from a nine-year-old boy, who believed in fantasies and myths.

“I had grown up in the shadow of my brother, who was destined to be crowned as the King of Raenythör. And I could never compete with that, nor do I want to. All that I wanted was to be acknowledged as a man of my own achievements and qualities. But that had nothing to do with my brother. I was pathetically competing with my own mother for _your_ respect and affection. When I returned to Nabooru, I realized how stupid I had been all these years, hoping that one day, you’d _see_ me as more than just Queen Alastríona’s son, Crown Prince Garan’s brother.”

 Rune was aghast, bereft of speech once Sehun was done fulminating. He had no idea at which point he had allowed things to get so out of hand. All this while, he believed that the boy was an insolent, bigoted, prideful scamp that had forgotten all about his adoration of Rune.

He raised a hand but dropped it back to his side when Sehun blenched and retreated.

“I… don’t know what to say,” Rune said frankly. “No one has ever… sought my veneration.”

“I did,” Sehun spat. “But like everyone else, you thought me a peculiar child, who was always overlooked because I was not important.”

“I never thought you that,” Rune objected fast. “You have been important to your family and to me.”

Sehun scoffed then. The dog was back at his side, wagging its tail. “Important to whom? My father who died from drinking too much? My mother who had sent me away? My brother who had never been much of a brother because he was too busy following my mother’s footsteps? The people of Raenythör who only really ever cared about the Raiganiel that ascends the throne? And you? You only tolerate me because of my dead mother. Even when you’re a soldier, a Nekrón, a servant, and I’m a distinguished savant, a server of the God, one of the most well-read scholars in all of Raenythör, certainly the most educated Raiganiel ever, you still look at me like I’m a child that knows nothing.”

Rune closed his eyes. “I apologize that I made you feel that way,” he whispered at last. “But how am I to understand all that when you have treated me with nothing but contempt since you returned? Do you know how many times I’ve looked for that little boy in you?”

“That _little_ boy is gone,” Sehun snarled. “I am wiser than you think. I wanted to be the best just so that _you_ would look at me for once and not my…” he trailed off, gnashing his teeth. “You just… never gave me a chance. All I did all these years was because of you and for you. But you never understood that. And that made me… furious. Everything I achieved was still not enough.”

“That isn’t the reason,” Rune argued. “You despise me because of—”

“You not upholding your oath.” Sehun huffed hard. “You want to honour your promises to my mother. But you have forgotten about the promises you’ve made me.”

Rune’s mouth parted in shock. “You were a child, Sehun. Those promises meant nothing.”

“They did to me,” Sehun snorted. “I grew up, clinging to those promises.” He turned away but paused. “I wanted to believe that you had murdered my mother. It would have made me hate you and hate her less.”

Even though Rune had wanted to go after Sehun as the boy stomped away with his dog, he could not move his feet. It was not the predicament he had ever imagined he’d be having with the Young Prince.

He also did not understand just how far Sehun’s need for Rune’s recognition ran for him to be so unforgiving about his own mother.

Either way, Rune was left staggered and dismayed by all of the sudden revelations. The wound on his chest hurt when he realized nothing would ever be the same after tonight.

He was the Diminisher.

He was born to the Blood Cult.

The Diminisher’s Axe was his to own.

The Dead would continue to serve him for as long as he is the Diminisher.

Daz’gon must be defeated.

And the Young Prince was in love with him.


	3. Chapter 3

# P A R T   T W O

* * *

 

# C H A P T E R   S I X

 

_Ten years ago…_

He could not stop the tears that rolled down his cheeks unchecked. He wiped them with his hands, but they wouldn’t stop spilling from his eyes. His heart was beating so hard that he was worried that it might jump out of his chest. He had never, _never_ been so sad. He felt betrayed and cheated by his mother. Why would she send him away? What had he done that was so punishable that she was sending him away to Nabooru? He had never even been to Nabooru. He did not know anybody in Nabooru.

He wished he would die before he embarked the ship that would take him away to Nabooru, leaving his home and family behind.

“Your Grace, please stop crying,” Vulred implored.

How could he stop crying? He did not like his preceptors or his governesses. But he loved home. He loved Vulred’s funny, adventurous stories. He loved the servants, who’d sneak him sweetmeats all the time. He loved the flower bushes that smelled wonderful. He loved the gardens and the water fountains. He loved the guards, who rubbed his head whenever he walked past them. Even though his brother and mother rarely had time for him, he loved them, too.

He stood before the carriage and wiped his face, snivelling breathlessly. “I don’t… want to… go away,” he sobbed.

Vulred frowned sadly. “If it were up to me, Your Highness, you wouldn’t have to. But it is your mother’s orders.”

Sehun cried some more. Why would she do that? Why? Did she hate him so much that she would rather have him sent away to a school than have him anywhere near her? He had not done anything so wrong for her to hate him so. He never bothered her when she was working or with her court. He only asked her once or twice a week to play with him, and even then, when she inevitably refused, he’d skip away and find a servant or a guard to play with. He never bothered her. So, why?

He blinked at the tears in his eyes to clear his vision when he spotted his mother, who was approaching him with her guards and Rune at her sides.

And Rune! Oh, Rune. Sehun could not leave him now that they were married, could he?!

This was a disaster. This was all very wrong. He had made Rune promises the other evening in the pavilion to stay by him forever. But now, he was breaking his promises. He could not break his promises. That would be wrong! He had to stay. He had to stay so that he could keep the promises he had made the big, handsome man.

What if he left and Rune got married to his mother instead? What if it really happened? Oh, God. Sehun would rather die!

He knew Rune and his mother liked each other ever since his father died. He had lied when he told Rune that he wouldn’t mind if he married his mother. The truth was that he would mind. So much. He did not want Rune to marry her. Especially not now that Rune was married to him.

Was Rune upset about this whole arrangement, too? Had he protested? Sehun wagered confidently that Rune would have argued with the Queen to let Sehun stay.

But as he accompanied the Queen, he did not look very upset. He wore a blank expression, one of his hands clenched into a fist and the other idly resting on the hilt of his scimitar. Sehun recollected the time Rune had let him hold that glorious scimitar of his. He said it had touched the Diminisher Himself. That was not even the best thing about Rune. Rune was a man who had had many achievements. He was perfect. He was a _man_. A true man. One of the truest men Sehun knew he’d ever stumble across.

Why would a man like that have eyes for a little boy when he deserved a Queen?

Sehun realized then that Rune had not tried to stop his mother from sending him away. Perhaps he did not care.

“Sehun,” his mother called as she stooped a couple of feet before him. “You must be careful in Nabooru. Study diligently. Do as you are told. The college will take very good care of you.” Her eyes looked sad as she reached a hand out to cup his face and wipe a tear away.

Sehun swatted her hand away angrily. “I don’t want to go!” he screamed and then wept again. “Please, don’t… send me away, Mother. I will be a good boy here. I won’t give you any trouble.”

She straightened up and pursed her lips, frowning disappointedly.

Sehun then looked up at Rune. The man was taller than anyone else in Raenythör, Sehun was certain. He was also the most handsome man in the entire realm, as far as Sehun was concerned. He deserved a woman as pretty as Sehun’s mother. Not a scrawny little boy.

“Rune,” he mewled, turning to the man. Rune’s thick eyebrows furrowed, but he said nothing. Sehun lunged at him and threw his arms around Rune’s waist, burying his face into Rune’s rock-hard, rippled stomach. “Please, tell them not to send me away. I don’t want to leave here. Please. Tell them.”

Rune was unmoving for a long time as Sehun continued to sob into his Vanguard uniform. Then he took hold of Sehun’s shoulders to pull him back.

“This is your first adventure, My Prince,” Rune said, lowering to one of his knees. Sehun blinked at him, eyelashes clumped together with tears. “Are you not excited to turn your hand to an adventure for the first time in your life? You know not of what great, magical things await you in Nabooru.”

Sehun sniffled and wiped his nose. “You… think this will be an adventure?” he asked.

“Yes. And when you return, you will have achieved great many things, too.”

Sehun’s eyes enlarged. “I will?” He hadn’t cared much about achieving great many things before. But would that make Rune proud of him? If he became good at a lot of things? If he became better than his mother?

“You will,” said Rune, smiling. “You’ll see. We will all be waiting for you to come back.”

An unknown emotion overcame Sehun as he hugged Rune’s neck and pressed his face to the man’s shoulder. “I will miss you, Rune,” he whispered softly. “Please, forgive me for leaving you.”

Rune raised one hand to Sehun’s back and gave it a light pat.

“When I grow up,” Sehun said, very quietly, only for Rune to hear. “I promise, I will marry you for real. And no one will separate us again.”

He heard Rune let out a soft chuckle before they came apart. “Have a safe journey, Your Highness.”

Sehun pulled away from him and let himself be ushered into the carriage. He gave Rune one last look before he climbed in and cried the rest of his way to the harbour.

He made a promise to himself then. He would work hard and very hard to achieve great many things for the man he loved.

* * *

_A few years later…_

He knelt before the priests for his first absolution session in Nabooru. He had recently come of age. And according to the college wardens, boys his age would get urges. And these urges were not welcome in the college. Hence, it was made compulsory for all students to entreat shrift from the priests and the Gods, Idaemïr in particular.

In his previous semester, he was introduced to the course of priesthood. Sehun realized that it was the one class he could not excel in. Because he would never qualify to be a priest. And that made him feel inadequate.

And quite honestly, corrupted.

But along with the course on priesthood came the course on divine worshipping. It was purveyed to him that those who worship the Gods in the holy houses of Gods were deemed as more distinguished than Kings and Queens. That had intrigued Sehun. He would want to be more distinguished than Kings and Queens since he could not be one himself.

He had not heard of a Raiganiel turning to priesthood before, even though every single Raiganiel had been devout worshippers of Idaemïr. Why Idaemïr, Sehun had often wondered. Why had his ancestors accepted the Idaem faith and not the other faiths? It had led him to digging up histories of his forefathers.

When the land of Raenythör was nothing but a dismal wasteland, the Raiganiel forebears had besought Idaemïr’s graces. Along with the Amulet of Idaemïr, the God graced them with power to rule. Idaemïr was not the only God. There were many Gods and one Maker, the God of Gods, the guardian of Heavens. And one Diminisher. The guardian of Hell. But in Raenythör, there was only one true God to worship. It was Idaemïr. 

“Prince Sehun,” called one of the priests. “What do you seek absolution for?”

It had been many years. Sehun looked emptily at the floor he knelt on in the temple.

“Your Grace,” said another priest. “In this temple, whatever that you intimate to us will not leave these walls. It is important that you cleanse your sins before you could continue to focus on your mastership. It is required of you to get past this stage.”

Sehun knew that. He understood very well why the college wardens made their students do this.

He raised his head to look at the priests. A lock of stray hair fell over his eye. This would be his one chance to cleanse himself of the desires he had been having for many years.

He could not afford to have a black streak on his records. He had to be better than all of the Raiganiels that came before him. He wanted to be the best.

“I have had unseemly desires,” he confessed in a low voice.

The priests did not seem surprised. “What are these unseemly desires?”

Sehun tightened his fingers around his knees, lowering his head once again. “For men. I have… desired… men.”

That startled the priests. They exchanged a few glances among one another and then quietly murmured. Sehun wondered if he were about to regret what he had just divulged. But he was in the house of Gods. He could not lie. And if he wanted to be the best, he had to play by the rules.

A priest cleared his throat from where he sat in a chair on the altar. “How often do you have these unnatural desires?” he inquired.

Sehun bit the inside of his cheek. “Not often,” he answered sternly.

“Do you have similar desires for women?” asked another priest.

Sehun shook his head daringly.

The priests sighed and mumbled some more. Then they looked at Sehun again. “Your Grace,” the priest said. “I am certain Idaemïr is merciful enough to cleanse you of your sins and these inappropriate thoughts.”

Sehun wanted to cut these priests down. That was not what he had wanted to hear.

“We will pray for you,” said another. “to see the right path. But if we minister this absolution, will you be willing to consider the monastery?”

Sehun gawked at them for a length. “You want me to… become a priest?”

“You have no desire for women. The law of both Gods and men forbids men from laying with another man,” he said. “If you are looking for a path for your future to pursue, then priesthood would suit you well. You have excelled in all of your classes. You are one of a kind, Your Highness. The sect would greatly benefit from a boy of your calibre.”

Sehun had not come in here for this. But being recognized by these priests felt good. He brimmed with pride.

“Serving the God as a priest is the highest honour a mortal man could achieve,” said a priest. “It will keep you away from the untoward desires.”

That was not the only reason Sehun decided that day that he would give priesthood a shot. It was mostly because he had this longing, burning hunger within him to do better than anyone else.

Ironically, it was for a man.

And he wanted to prove to that man that he could achieve greatness his mother never had.

* * *

_Present day…_

The once fierce, smouldering fire was now dying flicker after flicker, wafting into the heavy night air. He sat on the log and watched the final embers of the fire go out. Vrangrord had fallen asleep on the ground next to him.

He had always wanted a dog. But between training to become a masterful swordfighter and a prodigious scholar, he had never gotten the chance to have a dog of his own.

And then Vrangrord had come to him on his own. The dog was massive, and it looked feral. But it had warmed up to Sehun almost immediately. That was another of the firsts Sehun had had on this journey. Nobody ever warmed up to him. Not even after years. And that was to be blamed on him.

Cordiality did not come easy to him. As a child, he had been venturesome and wayward. As an adult, he was cold and standoffish. But he was sophisticated. Even so, he did not have a single person to call his friend.

For most of his life, he had striven to be better than his mother and brother. And every other Raiganiel. But most of all, he had wanted to be worthy of a particular man’s attention. And that had driven any potential friend or lover astray.

Although it had started out as an innocent infatuation of a child’s, Sehun had grown up with the fire to do his best to become the best. For Rune. For that one man. Even unknowingly.

But now that he had discovered that he could never match Rune Degenhard, he realized he had nothing more to offer to be better.

Rune was the Diminisher. He could summon the Dead. He wielded the Diminisher’s Axe. He would defeat Daz’gon and restore Raenythör’s peace. He was almost a chthonic God. And Sehun had seen him in the transformation that night. His eyes were as red as a demon’s, the veins in his body blazing red like the crevices on Hell’s ground. He commanded the Dead, allowed them to make their presence known in the living world. Sehun had seen the corpses that saved them with his own two eyes. He did not think he would ever get used to that.

In the face of all that magnificence, Sehun’s achievements, even as a Prince, seemed as insignificant as a whisper in a windstorm.

Perhaps it was for the better. Perhaps it would only make him resent the man more and this hatred would save him from the heartaches that were in store for him.

The first heartache he had ever experienced was when he realized, at the age of fifteen, lying in his bed at night, that he had forgotten what Rune’s face looked like. And if he’d forgotten that, Rune would have definitely forgotten all about him. Then it occurred to him that he was pining for a man he could never have.

He did not understand the feelings he had garnered for Rune. Was it respect? Was it adoration? Was it a need for recognition? Or was it something more? Something dangerous?

In the end, he had come to the conclusion that he needed to be strong for the next time he met Rune. He could not let his heart get broken. He would never appear that vulnerable or weak.

Then he met Rune again. After ten years. He couldn’t even tell if the man had gotten older because he did not clearly remember what Rune used to look like. But he remembered those eyes all too well.

Rune had a few grey strands in his hair and beard, too. His hair was longer now. It suited him. The scar on his left temple was still there. He was still very handsome. A little sloppy, but still very handsome.

But Sehun knew Rune had never looked at him even once. Not in the way Sehun secretly looked at Rune. It made him furious that in spite of everything he had done to be the best, he was still not good enough for the man who’d reign Hell itself.

“Forget about him,” Sehun muttered to the dying fire, eyes stinging with fresh, angry tears. It was not even about being with the man. It was about making Rune see him as someone worthy of his affection.

Sehun could never be that.

Vrangrord lifted his head and nudged his nose into Sehun’s shin, whining softly.

“I hate him,” Sehun spat. His brain was scattered. He was distracted. He hated the man he loved. And he didn’t know how it was possible.

If anything, it proved that human emotions fared way beyond the understandings of science and psychology.

On one hand, he had received the teachings of Idaemïr that told him to repel those of the olden faiths, like the Blood Faith. And to repel the tainted. Like a Nekrón.

On the other, however, his heart raced savagely every time his skin would touch Rune’s. There were times when he wished he had had the courage to put aside all of his faith and follow his heart.

He had always been an eccentric child that nobody understood. He still was all that as a grownup.

As the night aged, he glanced to the sleeping horses and to the three tents they had pitched. He rose from the log and walked over to the one that was designated for him. Zelos was snoring in another tent he was supposed to share with Raven.

But the furthest tent that was pitched under a tree was bright with a candlelight. Sehun bit his lip. He wondered if Rune were asleep.

The night of the attack. When Rune was wounded, the world seemed to have fallen apart for Sehun. For a moment, he had been terrified. Fear was not an emotion Sehun often encountered. But that night, fear had engulfed him whole. The fear of losing the purpose of his life. The meaning behind everything he was.

Wasn’t it a little pathetic that he could never tell Rune how much the man meant to him?

And wasn’t it heart-breaking that Rune thought him to be a hateful priest if nothing more?

He wended his way to the tent. He didn’t know what more he’d say to the man, but he wanted to say something. Or at least listen to something Rune had to say after Sehun’s outburst.

As he approached the tent, he heard Raven’s voice from the inside of the tent. He stopped.

“You should stay put,” she said.

“I am staying put,” Rune grumbled back.

Gripping his fists, Sehun marched onwards and burst into the tent like a mad bull. He glanced around the tent that was almost touching the top of his head and found Rune seated on the ground on top of a blanket with Raven kneeling at his side, trying to knot the bandage around Rune’s chest.

They had frozen upon Sehun’s intrusion.

“Did you want something?” Raven asked. Rune was only staring, shirtless and uncomfortable. The tent could barely fit a man his size, let alone three people simultaneously.

“Yes. Are you done?” Sehun spat, turning his glower to Raven.

“Sehun,” Rune chided with a heavy sigh.

Raven scowled back at Sehun as she rose to her feet. “I am done. But you ought to get some sleep, Princeling. We have a long ride tomorrow.”

Sehun’s eyebrows pinched together in confusion. “A long ride to where?”

Rune sat up straighter, grunting tiredly. “Raven, please leave us for a moment,” he told the woman.

Sehun’s repulsion for the woman ran deeper than religious differences. And even though he refused to acknowledge the real reason behind his dislike for her, he did not want to see her anywhere near Rune.

Raven did not argue as she picked up her things and the old bandages before storming out of the tent, giving Sehun a forbidding look on her way out.

Rune grabbed a shirt and pulled it on, though he left it unlaced and hanging open.

Sehun tried to keep his eyes from wandering to those firm, solid muscles of Rune’s abdomen. “I wanted to speak to you about something,” Rune said, much to Sehun’s surprise, as he stood up. He ducked his head uncomfortably since the tent was too small for his height. “Which was why I had come looking for you earlier.”

Crossing his arms over his chest, Sehun loured into Rune’s piercing blue eyes.

“We are going back to Akrowyth,” said Rune point-blank.

Sehun stared at him. “Okay.”

“And we have to somehow find a way to convince King Garan to meet us and listen to us.”

“To _us_?” Sehun echoed, arching an eyebrow.

Rune scowled. “Yes. To us. He will only listen to you.”

Sehun snorted out a dead laugh. “The moment you step foot into Akrowyth, you will be thrown back into prison. And before you’ll even know it, your head will be cut off from your body.”

“I know,” Rune growled. “And that is why I need you to talk to your brother.”

“Why would I do that?”

Rune’s jaw tautened. “Because he’d listen to you.”

“No, I get that. But why would I do it? You are the Diminisher. I doubt a little prison or the headsman’s axe could hold you down.”

“That is beside the point,” Rune said through his grit teeth. “I understand that I am not your favourite person right now. But every moment that goes by with Rowana at your brother’s side, he and the kingdom plunge into a greater danger. The sooner we tell the King what is going on, the better chance we have at being prepared to face Daz’gon.”

“You want to drag mortal men into the war between Gods,” Sehun spat. “Daz’gon will not break the Idaem faith. We do not need your help to face Daz’gon.”

“Why are you being so difficult? Why can’t you for once listen to me?!” Rune shouted then. “All your life, you’ve had this twisted need of having to outshine everyone. But you don’t have to, Sehun. I, for one, never thought that you were less than anyone.”

Sehun’s heart skipped a beat, and he was thrust into complete silence.

“Even now, you think that if you listened to me, you’d be proven to be weak. But that is not the case! If this is what you wanted to hear, then I’ll say it to you. From the moment I met you since you returned, you have been someone I don’t think I have ever encountered before. And that isn’t because you were better than your mother or the other Raiganiels. But it was because you were just… you.” He took a breath. “A boy who… tries really hard. And you never back down from a fight. When you tried to help that rider with the wagon the other night, I saw how much you cared about even the most insignificant ones of your people. When you stabbed that sot’s hand at the inn to save a girl, I saw how righteous you were. When you wouldn’t let go of your beliefs even for a second no matter how wrong you are shows how confident you can be. I admire every single one of those traits. But most of all, when you cared about me during the attack and after, I knew you couldn’t have hated me because of your faith.”

Sehun choked back on a sob. He tried to stay strong.

Rune closed the distance between them but did not advance too close. “You are a peculiar boy. But I am trying to understand you,” the older, bigger man muttered, his two pools of deep blue boring into Sehun’s. “I had no idea of how you felt towards me.”

He was so close. All that Sehun would have to do to feel the heat of Rune’s skin was reach out and touch the man.

He was an Idaem. And this was a tainted Nekrón, who was condemned to Hell.

“It wouldn’t have changed anything,” Sehun said then. “You don’t have to force yourself to be nice to me because I will not extend the favour.”

“You are more than just my duty or promise,” Rune said calmly. “Whether you believe it or not. But I have never… seen you like that. Just like what you said. You were a child. And you returned a man I… I couldn’t imagine loving. After Alastríona died, I hadn’t had a chance to even breathe.”

Sehun wished he was strong enough to shield his heart from the blow that it had just received. He could almost hear it shatter. Not that he was expecting anything other than that, but it still hurt.

Shutting his eyes for a moment, Rune took a few deep breaths. When he opened them again, they flared at up Sehun. “Fine.” He turned his back to Sehun and stopped. Sehun’s expression softened into disappointment. “I am returning to Akrowyth. I will not tell you what to do anymore. You can do as you please. But I will walk up to Garan. And if he refuses to listen and decides to imprison me again, I will no longer fight it. Diminisher or not. But you must know you had a chance to stop the downfall of your faith and your kingdom and you stood by and watched because of your pride.”

Sehun let his arms fall back to his sides. “What if Garan doesn’t believe me?”

Rune turned around and faced him once more. “I am going to be hopeful for once.”

Sehun gave a curt nod. Their gazes lingered on one another for a while before Sehun spun around.

“Sehun,” Rune called. Sehun paused at the mouth of the tent.

It killed Sehun. To hear the man say his name. The first time he had called Sehun by his name, Sehun thought he had been struck in the head.

But then Rune said nothing. Sehun walked out.

Even though the man had made his points, Sehun realized Rune Degenhard would never fall in love with him.

 

 

* * *

 

# C H A P T E R   S E V E N

 

They rode along the mountain range, heading south, the next day as morning came, stopping only twice for a quick rest.

At evenfall, they were forced to make another stop when the heavy thundery sky made way for an ominous storm.

“Knot up their reins tight,” Rune ordered as they hurriedly tied their horses to the trees before the rain could worsen.

Sehun pulled the cowl over his head and struggled to tighten the leather around the tree. His horse trotted with a start when a thunder struck.

“Whoa!” he gasped, yanking the reins to hold onto the horse. Vrangrord barked fiercely at the rain before he tried to bite the raindrops one by one as they soaked his fur.

Before he could lose his grip on the horse, the reins were caught by a pair of strong hands that commanded the horse to calm down. Letting go of the reins, Sehun took a step back to watch Rune fasten the strap around the tree. He hadn’t donned on his cloak. His shirt was completely soaked through. Sehun stared at the flexing and tautening muscles on Rune’s back through the wet shirt while the man tied Sehun’s horse to the tree.

When he turned around, his eyes only briefly met Sehun’s before he walked over to Raven to help with her horse. He gave Vrangrord’s head a ruffle on his way and the dog snarled at him.

They had not shared a single word since last night. Sehun knew that he had somehow made everything worse between them by blurting out everything that he felt about the man.

And Rune had not made it easier either by admitting that he had never seen Sehun in such a light and probably never would.

Zelos and Raven gathered under the tree with the thickest, widest canopy layer to shelter themselves from the storm. Raven then beckoned to Rune to join them.

Sehun stood still for a moment to grimace at them. “You shouldn’t be standing under a tree when it’s bloody storming!” he yapped at Raven and Zelos.

Zelos gaped at him. Raven scowled.

“He’s right,” Zelos rasped and pulled away from the tree. “This wasn’t… smart.”

“Well, we can’t stand out in the storm either,” said Raven.

Sehun glanced to Vrangrord, who was tugging at his cloak. “What is it, boy?”

The dog released the cloak to skip away into the forest. Sehun turned to Rune once before he went after Vrangrord. The rest eventually followed him.

Nabooru had been an adventure on its own. Just like Rune had promised it would be before Sehun left for it. But this was real adventure.

A part of Sehun had wanted to save Rune from his execution because he had wanted to believe it would lead him to an adventure. And it had. Of course, the rest of his reasons for saving Rune from the headsman’s axe were completely selfish.

Regardless of what he had told Rune and Zelos later, he had taken Rune’s word to be entirely truthful when the man pleaded innocent before the execution. Sehun was not Garan or the rest of the kingdom to blindly believe Rune, a soldier who’d remained staunch with his loyalty for many years to his Queen and the house Raiganiel, would commit a murder that was so sloppy and careless.

And Rune had been right. If he had had eyes on the throne, he was man enough to take it by warring head on. He was no coward. It was one of the many reasons why Sehun both admired and resented him. For a man that brave, Rune was not brave enough to pursue his love. And that made him stronger. Because he would not even let love be his weakness.

Sehun wished he was as stalwart.

Vrangrord led them to an arch of boulders and rocks at the foot of a mountain where they could take shelter from the storm. It almost resembled the opening of a small cave. Unfortunately, it was crowded with boulders.

“Give me a hand,” Rune told to Zelos as he held onto one side of a massive boulder. Zelos joined his side, both hands pressed to the rock. With a bit of a struggle, they managed to get the boulder out of the way before turning to another.

“Fuck,” Rune hissed all of sudden, retrieving his right hand from the boulder. Sehun peered at the gnarly cut on Rune’s palm as the rain washed the blood from it. Shaking the hand a few times, Rune attempted the thrust the boulder away.

Sehun stepped forward and gave the boulder a push. Rune glimpsed him sideways momentarily, but quickly returned his attention to the chore at hand.

Once the area under the arch made of stones and boulders was cleared, they hurriedly squeezed into it. The thunder that followed a lightning that split the dark skies in half startled Sehun.

“Now, we wait out the storm,” Zelos sighed and plumped heavily on one of the boulders. Taking a boot off his foot, he spilled the rainwater out.

Vrangrord settled on the ground and started licking his fur vigorously. Rune perched himself on a boulder and examined his palm that was gashed by the rock’s sharp edge. His wet shirt was most unlaced by the chest, revealing the bandaged body. Most men would not have survived a sword through their chest, let alone heal so fast at full tilt. But then again, most men could not face Hergroc and defeat the chthonic lord.

“Why are you still with us, by the way?” Zelos asked Raven. “Haven’t you fulfilled your calling?”

Raven paid him no heed as she continued to glare at the storm nervously. “The rain does not look like it will cease anytime soon,” she muttered.

Sehun took his seat beside Zelos and hugged the cloak tightly around his shivering body. He glanced at Zelos, who was staring at him. “What?” he asked his cousin annoyedly.

“You are cold?” the other man asked.

“Clearly,” Sehun spat, teeth almost chattering. “Aren’t you?”

Zelos shrugged. “I have seen worse storms and cold.”

Sehun never understood Zelos. After his parents died, Sehun’s mother had taken him in. Even if he weren’t a Prince, he was still a royalty and a Raiganiel. He had lands and castles to his name which his parents had left him. Even so, he had insisted on serving the Queen.

Zelos had always been around the palace. But even before Sehun had left for Nabooru, he had never gotten to know him.

“Why are you here? You didn’t have to do any of this. You could have had a restful, luxurious life,” Sehun pointed out.

Zelos laughed. Vrangrord walked over to get comfortable near Sehun’s feet. “So could you,” Zelos said.

Sehun averted his gaze to Raven, who settled at Rune’s side. She took his injured hand and gave it an inspection before Rune withdrew the hand with a frown etched on his brows. His icy blue eyes were keen on Sehun.

“We all want to be more than what the people see us as,” said Zelos. “I’m not a Prince. I didn’t want to seem like a freeloader.”

Sehun sighed, lowering his eyes from Rune’s. “I can respect that,” he muttered.

Zelos clapped a hand to Sehun’s shoulder then. Sehun allowed it. “I will be honest, cousin,” Zelos said. “In the beginning, I didn’t have much hope for you. But you have proved time and again that you are undaunted and persevering. Nothing scares you easy for as young as you are. It is impressive. And it shows you are more than what people think you to be.”

Sehun felt his heart warm at that. It was all that he had ever wanted. To be more than what people thought him to be. What Rune thought him to be.

“And I have grown to understand that you are not as insufferable as you pose yourself to be,” Zelos chortled. “And I think Rune is starting to see that, too.”

“I don’t care about what he sees,” Sehun grumbled.

“Well, I’m just saying. If you do, then you should know that he is not a very complicated man. Very rough on the edge. But not complicated. He sees what you show him.”

Sehun did not make a rejoinder as he rifled his fingers through Vrangrord’s damp fur, slowly lifting his eyes to look at Rune, who was gazing into the rain now with a stern concentration.

“Do you see the Dead?” he heard Raven ask Rune.

The man gave a small nod, eyes still boring into the trees.

“When the Blood Faith gave me my calling, I didn’t believe this would all even be possible,” said Raven. “Have you prayed before, Rune?”

Rune looked away from the rain to face the hooded woman now. “What?”

Raven smiled and took Rune’s hands. “When you pray, the Blood Faith will speak to you.”

“I don’t pray,” Rune said gruffly.

“I know. Even then, the Blood Faith had reached out to you.” Her fingers tightened around Rune’s. “You are truly meant for great things.”

Sehun gripped his fists so hard that he felt his fingernails dig into his palms.

“Would you like to pray?” Raven asked. “I can teach you the right way to pray to the Blood Faith.”

Sehun shot up from the boulder and marched over to the other side of the stone arch. “Blood Faith is still a forbidden practice in the Kingdom of Raenythör,” he growled at Raven.

The woman craned her head up to look at him. And so did Rune.

“And I as the Young Prince of Raenythör and a member of the sect will not allow such unsanctioned activities to take place in my presence,” Sehun said. “Do you know what the capital punishments are for committing treason? If you disobey me, under the seventh sacred law of the religious sect of Raenythör, you disrespect a member of the monastery. Hence, I have the right to command any of my servants and people to have your head this very moment.”

Raven gaped at him. “We are not in your capital to—”

“This very kingdom is _mine_ , you hag,” Sehun cut her off. “Whether you like it or not, I was born to the King and Queen of Raenythör! If you so much as disrespect me one more time, I will have the realm hunt you down and not even your Blood Faith can save you then.”

Rune jolted up to his feet then and grabbed hold of Sehun’s arm. “That’s enough,” he spat furiously and started hauling Sehun from under the arch.

Drenched in the rain once more, Sehun stumbled and staggered as Rune yanked him away without any explanation.

“Let go of me!” Sehun cried into the cacophony of the storm.

Rune did not heed him. In fact, his grip on Sehun’s arm only tightened. When they were far enough from the stone arch, Rune released Sehun, slamming him against the trunk of a tree.

All wind knocked out his lungs, Sehun gasped as Rune trapped him between the tree and the man’s heaving chest.

“What are you—”

“You are testing my limits,” Rune roared, punching a fist into the tree. Branches fell off as Sehun flinched. “No one in this world has driven me as crazy as you have from the day we met. I might be the Diminisher, but I am still every bit of the man I was.”

“Get away from me, Nekrón,” Sehun ordered, although his voice was breaking.

“No,” Rune spat. “What will you do? Order your _men_ to have my head because I disobeyed you?” His hand flew up to curl around Sehun’s neck, though it did not clutch at it. Instead, Rune ran a thumb along Sehun’s jaw before he pressed it lightly to Sehun’s lower lip, wiping a droplet of rain from it. His cold eyes drooped low as Sehun panted through his parted lips. “You shouldn’t have told me,” Rune said quietly, his voice almost inaudible against the dissonance of the rain. “It would have… all been better that way.”

Sehun had forgotten how to breathe for a moment as he watched the rainwater drip from Rune’s hair and trickle down the man’s face.

 “You wouldn’t want my affection, Sehun,” Rune murmured, cupping a side of Sehun’s face with his wounded hand, his lips so dangerously close to Sehun’s. “And you are… killing me right now.”

Along with the thunderstorm, a new storm was brewing in Sehun’s chest. He tried to focus on his breathing that came out in violent gushes.

“Everything I touch turns to dust,” said Rune. “I want you to live a long, happy life. You are the Young Prince of Raenythör. I will be on this ground for as long as it takes for me to give you and your brother a safe kingdom to rule.”

Sehun blinked at the rain then. Rune dropped his hand. “What?”

Rune’s gaze lowered to Sehun’s neck. “I am the Diminisher. I can’t let the Dead roam this world.”

Then it registered to Sehun. A head-splitting thunder sent him jerking against Rune’s body. Rune caught his waist to steady him.

For a long moment, they stood in the rain, Rune’s arms wrapped around him while Sehun’s hands held onto the Nekrón’s shoulders.

“You want to take Hergroc’s place in Hell,” Sehun said, staring into those vivid blue eyes. “As the Diminisher.”

Rune frowned and pulled away like he was scorched. He pushed the wet hair out of his face. “I have to.”

Of course, what did Rune have to lose? He would have honoured his word to the Queen. He had no family left in this world. He didn’t think there was anyone worth staying for.

Sehun had given him the reason to think that. If Rune would be so unbothered about leaving everything behind, then Sehun convinced himself that he would not care either.

He shook his head, fighting the sob that clawed at his throat. Then turning on his heel, he marched back to the stone arch. He wanted to break down and cry for once. To let all of his sorrow out. But he sat back and reined it in like he always did to put up a strong front.

* * *

The storm lasted all night.

Raven helped Rune get rid of the soggy bandages. Sehun stared at the scarring wounds along the sternum of Rune’s chest and the front of his shoulder. He was healing impressively fast.

“Looks like we’d just have to find a way to sleep here,” Zelos said, giving the back of Vrangrord’s ear a good scratching.

“Like… this?” Sehun gestured at the surrounding and himself. He was still completely soaked, hair to boots.

“Improvise, Your Grace,” Zelos said and slid down the boulder to spread his cloak over the ground before he sat down on it, leaning back against the boulder. Then folding his arms at his chest, he closed his eyes.

Raven had also fallen asleep, hugging her black sabre. At her side, Rune was watching the rain with a pair of furrowed brows.

Sehun rose from where he sat and walked over to the man, shivering and with clattering teeth. Rune looked up at him as he knelt before the Nekrón. Vrangrord followed him and took a seat to watch Rune, panting and his tongue lopping.

Without a word, Sehun took a careful hold of Rune’s right hand and brought it to his lap.

Rune did not protest when Sehun drew his fingertips along the edges of the jagged, messy gash.

No one might ever know. And Sehun would never show it himself. But it truly did hurt when someone you cared about was hurt. Even if it were just a tiny little pinprick.

Sehun tried to maintain an unsmiling face as he tore a piece of his cloak and wetted it in the rainwater before pressing it to the cut on Rune’s hand.

And Rune, tiredly and sleepily, let him without wincing once. A curious Vrangrord bowed his head to sniff the wound.

It made a corner of Rune’s lips quirk up into half a smile.

Once he had cleaned the wound and the blood, Sehun swiped his thumb gently along the cut. Rune was watching him with heavy eyes with Sehun fingers pressed to his callused ones. Rune really did have the roughest of hands. And they were big, too. They always had been for as far as Sehun’s memories permitted.

He had never thanked Rune for saving his life the other night. He doubted he ever would. But perhaps Zelos was right. Perhaps Rune Degenhard was not that complicated of a man and he only saw what was shown to him.

After scrutinizing the wound for a length, Sehun lifted his eyes to meet Rune’s briefly before he released the hand and rose back to his full height and returned to the other end of the arch to curl up into a ball next to Zelos.

For the rest of the night before he finally managed to drift off, he and Rune did not look away from each other.

* * *

When the morning came, the storm had left a crisp smell and aftertaste to the forest. Sehun roused before the others when Vrangrord licked his face awake.

He sat up and glanced at Zelos, who was still tight asleep. Raven stirred but didn’t wake up. Rune was also sleeping, leaning against a boulder.

Sehun realized the man looked so peaceful when he was asleep.

The dog yipped softly. “Okay. I’m up,” Sehun told him and tousled his now fully dry fur. Then standing up, he made his way out of the arch to check on the horses.

Treading over the rain-kissed, grassed floor of the forest, Sehun reached up to a branch and lightly tapped it. He then shuddered at the raindrops that pattered on his face.

The horses were all up and grazing the fresh grass.

Sehun tottered over to Rune’s beast. The stallion was the most beautiful black horse he had ever seen. Prymos raised his head to greet Sehun’s arrival.

With a smile, Sehun grappled an arm around the stallion’s neck and nuzzled into the washed mane. His head whipped up when he heard the grass crunching under heavy footfalls.

Rune stopped and stared at Sehun, who was hugging and rubbing his face against the man’s horse.

Clearing his throat, Sehun pulled away from Prymos. Rune then walked over to the stallion to give his shoulder a strong pat.

Sehun turned to his own horse and handed the animal more grass to eat. He sneakily glanced back at Rune and the horse that was nickered at its rider, nudging its nose against Rune’s shoulder to shove him back.

“Cut it out, Prymos,” Rune hissed at the horse before pinning Sehun with a sidelong glance.

Vrangrord excitedly rose to his hindlegs to press his paws to Sehun’s chest. Sehun stumbled back by the sudden pouncing and almost tilted to the ground before he was caught by a very sturdy, muscled arm.

He grunted, his back thudding against Rune’s chest. He could feel Rune’s pounding heart upon his back as his hand nervously tightened around a corner of Sehun’s waist to steady him.

Sehun shoved the man away and regained his footing. Rune licked his lips and turned around to scowl at his horse.

The dog barked with exhilaration, running around the horses in the morning mist. Sehun looked down at his clothes that were mostly dry expect for his cloak. He took it off and draped it over a tree branch to dry.

He then emptied his horse’s saddlebags. Most of their contents were dry, thankfully. Undoing the braids in his hair, he turned his head halfway around to leer at Rune, who was peeling the shirt off his body.

Sehun felt a lump in his throat.

All the unbecoming desires he thought he had extinguished for his priesthood came rushing back to him, sending blood to parts of his body he was forbidden from touching for pleasure.

He watched the muscles in Rune’s arms and back tauten around the scar the Deathless had spawned as the Nekrón ran his hands through his shoulder-length hair. When Prymos pressed his nose to the man’s head to sniff him, Rune pushed the horse’s head away.

Sehun recalled the time when Rune had caught him undressing. The bastard had not even bothered to act like he was not unabashedly watching Sehun strip down to nothing.

It made him wonder what Rune’s thoughts at the moment might have been.

As Rune started to turn around, Sehun tried to look away but he failed to as his lusting eyes fell on the scar on Rune’s chest that was lightly dusted with fine hairs that trailed along the firm abdominal muscles, leading all the way down to his…

Sehun gasped softly and turned away, realizing where his gaze was wandering to.

The man was a monster. Sehun had seen plenty of men having gone to a college where there were only men. But he had never seen a man like Rune. His body deserved a temple of its own. He was befitting of the title of the Diminisher.

The few times Rune’s hands had touched him and struck him across the face, Sehun was left wanting more. Of course, he never let himself show it. Wanting a Nekrón to touch him was blasphemous. Not that Rune would want to touch him, anyway.

Vrangrord’s sudden bay diverted Sehun’s attention. The dog was howling at a Tuk Plum that had somehow survived the storm and was hanging off a branch.

“You want that, boy?” Sehun asked, gazing up at the high branch. There was no way he could reach it. But he knew Vrangrord had to be fed. He doubted the dog knew how to hunt in a forest.

Standing on the tip of his toes, he tried to pluck the plum. It was way out of his reach. With no luck, he sighed and pulled all of his hair to one side. When he looked down at the dog, Vrangrord whined pathetically.

Sehun’s own stomach growled. He wondered if Raven had brought more food with her.

“Do you want me to help you?”

Sehun jumped and turned around to look at Rune, who had walked up to him, still shirtless and irritatingly attractive.

As much as Sehun wanted to say no and dismiss the man cruelly, he found himself nodding his head slowly.

Rune looked up at the fruit. “I can’t reach it, but I can lift you.”

“What?” Sehun croaked out, and immediately felt stupid about it. He pursed his lips and took a deep breath to collect himself again. “That is not necessary.”

Vrangrord raised his front paws to the trees to leer up at the fruit yearningly.

“Seems like Babypaw really wants it,” said Rune.

“His name is Vrangrord,” Sehun replied, though he could barely find his voice.

Rune smiled at him, then.

He smiled…

Although Sehun felt his heartbeat stumble, he started to scowl.

“Come on,” Rune muttered and crouched.

“Wait, I—” Before Sehun could protest, Rune locked his arms tightly around his legs. He was lifted from the ground effortlessly.

Sehun gasped, frantically holding onto Rune’s broad shoulders. “What are you doing?!” he shrieked. “Put me down!”

“Just get the plum,” Rune grunted. His face was precisely levelled at Sehun’s belly. His arms around Sehun were impossibly strong.

Panting laboriously, Sehun glanced up and stretched an arm to pluck the fruit from the branch. As soon as it was in his hand, he felt Rune lower him back to the ground, although very slowly.

The dog yipped in a hungry delirium.

His arms slid up, skidding past Sehun’s ass. And as he was lowered, Sehun’s front glided down Rune’s bare chest. When his feet touched the ground again, he looked up at Rune’s eyes.

 _You wouldn’t want my affection,_ Rune had said. _Everything I touch turns to dust._ Sehun was not expecting Rune to love him back. He never had since he grew up to realize the man was in love with the Queen her served. All that he wanted Rune to do was to acknowledge that he was better than his mother. That he was worthy of Rune’s attention for once. That he would not be forgotten when they played hide-and-go-seek.

He realized the man had not retrieved those strong arms from around his waist. Instead, Rune stared earnestly into Sehun’s gaze.

Then he asked, in a low, guttural whisper, “Why did you become a priest if you… felt that way about me?”

Sehun’s ears rang. He did not wish to answer these kinds of questions. He did not need Rune asking them either. What point was there? Why did Rune even need an explanation to something he ultimately did not care about?

“For a number of reasons,” Sehun muttered back, anyway, slightly lost in those two pools of ice.

“Like what?”

Sehun raised a free hand to Rune’s chest. He splayed his fingers over it and felt the man’s heart beat beneath his palm. This felt surreal. Like a dream.

“I could never be with you, anyway,” he said. “You loved my mother. I needed something to force me to keep me away from you. But at the same time, I wanted to the best Raiganiel ever lived. I wanted to excel in every arena. Hence, I turned to priesthood.”

Rune’s arms loosened around him. “Well, did it work?” he asked. “Did it… help you stay away from me?”

Sehun’s brows furrowed. He pushed the man away then. Before Rune could hear how fast his heart was beating. “You must have misunderstood me. Whatever I felt for you was a very long time ago. What I have for you now is not… I do not wish for…” he trailed off, unsure of how to choose the right words. He felt his cheeks warm.

Rune smirked. “You should not say things you do not mean, Princess,” he said. Sehun blinked. “Your mouth says one thing, but your eyes are narrating something completely different. I am starting to understand that.”

“Shut up,” Sehun spat and turned to Vrangrord. The dog leaped into the air to catch the fruit Sehun tossed him. “I do not want you to be nice to me. I want you to tell me that I am better than my mother. That if she were never there in the first place, you would have recognized me and remembered me.”

Rune was silent. Sehun turned around to look at him again. The Nekrón was frowning.

“That isn’t how you win someone’s affection,” Rune then said. In that moment, Sehun could do nothing but stare at him. “You didn’t have to go to such an extent to prove that you are better than everyone else to show that you are worthy of my affection.”

Rune took one step forward and raised his hands to hold Sehun’s face. Frozen to the ground, Sehun simply goggled at the taller man with wide, baffled eyes.

“All you had to do was look at me the way you did last night,” Rune muttered.

“Good morning!” Zelos’ yawned loudly as he approached them.

As though he were stung, Rune withdrew from Sehun. And Sehun hurried away from the man as well, face burning with embarrassment. What had just happened…?

Was Rune messing with his head? Was he playing Sehun now?

Sehun was gasping for air as he braced himself against a tree.

Rune rubbed the back of his neck, looking flushed himself. Zelos whistled and stretched his arms over his head when he had walked over to them.

“That was one of the most terrible nights of my life,” said the former Captain of the Queen’s Guard. “God, my back is about to snap.”

Raven eventually joined them, too. She buckled the sabre’s scabbard around her waist and strutted over to Rune. “That looks like it’s healing well,” she remarked, pointing at Rune’s chest.

“I don’t even feel it anymore,” Rune said dully, his eyes constantly flitting to Sehun.

“I am starving,” Zelos then said, yawning once more. “The end of the rain would have brought the animals out.”

“You’re right,” said Rune as he turned to Prymos to gather the battle-axe from the saddlebags. “We should go hunt us some food.”

“I will build a fire,” said Raven and instantly started building a tinder nest on the ground.

Sehun chewed on his bottom lip, mustering that great battle-axe in those hands. Something cold ran down his spine then. Not only was this man of born of Blood Faith, but he was also kissed by the damnation of Hell.

And Sehun, who had once sworn off lustful desires, proceeded to reminisce the heat of Rune’s body he was enveloped in a moment ago.

“Your Grace,” Zelos called. “Do you want to come along?”

“No,” Sehun said. “I must pray.”

Zelos bowed his head before he and Rune started past the trees. “I wanted to speak to you about something,” Rune told Zelos as they disappeared into the woods.

Sucking in a heavy breath, Sehun pulled the top half of his hair into a braid and dropped to his knees on the ground and started praying.

He began with chanting the first few verses of the holy scriptures, hands clasped together. As he approached the seventh verse, his blood drummed in his ears, his mind was cast back to those muscular, powerful arms around his waist again.

_You didn’t have to go to such an extent to prove that you are better than everyone else to show that you are worthy of my affection._

_All you had to do was look at me the way you did last night…_

Sehun’s eyes flew open. He dropped his hands to the ground and clutched at the grass, breathing heavily. “Damn it.”

“I did not know Idaem priests cursed,” Raven commented.

Sehun glanced at her, scowling. Prayers disrupted by his obscene thoughts, he rose back to his feet. “I did not know I would want to kill you when we first met.”

Raven smiled smugly and returned her attention to the fire she was trying to set alive. “I hold nothing against you, Prince. You cannot be held accountable for something your forefathers did.”

“That does not mean I don’t advocate for them.”

Raven looked at him again. “Do you?”

Sehun squared his shoulders. “They did what they had to do to make this kingdom great.”

“And they killed many innocent followers of a faith they did not approve of. Would you have done the same?”

He pressed his lips thinly and glowered at her. If it had come down to it, he did not think he would raze down an entire cult of a faith he did not agree with.

“No,” he said. “Even now, I do not want to eradicate the entirety of the Blood Cult. But the Deathless and Daz’gon have to be obliterated.”

“That I agree with you fully, Princeling,” said Raven. “There is something we can agree on after all.” She smiled.

Sehun grinded his teeth and turned his back to her. If he could not yield the focus to pray, then he should at least train to hone his swordplay skills.

Vrangrord watched eagerly as Sehun brandished the silversword, cutting the air before him. He had gotten the sword as a prize for displaying excellence throughout his study after he had completed his mastership at Nabooru. It was one of Iloqens’ finest handiworks.

“You’ve got a nice form there,” Raven said.

“I do not need your adjudications,” Sehun spat back.

Raven sniggered. “You are in love with him.”

Sehun stopped dead, the sword piercing the air. For the first time, he felt his grip tremble around the sword.

“An Idaem priest,” Raven scoffed. The fire was burning. She stood up to her full height. “more corrupted than anyone in the Blood Cult.”

Sehun twisted around sharply. “Choose your next words carefully, witch.”

She drew her black sabre. “So, all of this façade is to shield you from the sin and the corruption you truly are.”

Sehun’s stomach turned. His heart was hammering ferally against his ribs. His throat tightened.

“Does he know?” she asked. “I doubt that he would not have caught up on your hints. But what do you think he’ll do about it? He is a man. You are a boy.”

Sehun raised the sword to her neck. “One more word and you will regret it.”

“I wonder what the capital punishments are for a corrupted priest and a Prince who lusts after men.”

His hand around the grip of the sword loosened. He wanted to strike her down. He should have. But she was not divulging anything that wasn’t true. He felt his body quake with trepidation as he lowered the sword.

“We found some wild hares,” said Zelos, emerging from the trees with a couple of dead hares in his hand, their furs bloodied, skin cut open. Behind him, Rune followed.

Raven sheathed her sabre and helped them with the hares. “They’ll make some fine roast,” she said.

When Sehun looked at Rune, the man fixed him with a worried expression.

* * *

“I do not understand,” Sehun said. “Why must Zelos ride to Lavirtïr?”

Zelos tore a piece of meat from the roasted hare with his teeth before saying, “The Vanguard’s orders.”

Sehun glanced at Rune, then. He had put his shirt on, but left it open and unlaced, anyway. “I know many of retired soldiers there,” said Rune. “It won’t be the worst idea to have some living, fighting men on our side when we confront Daz’gon.”

“Do you think they’ll fight alongside a man who held accountable for the Queen’s murder?” asked Raven.

“They know me,” said Rune. “These were brothers I fought with in battles. If Zelos’ convinces them to at least come and see me once, they will believe me.”

“It is a risk,” Sehun said. “to send Zelos there.”

“I will be fine,” Zelos said. “Besides, I think I would be more useful that way.”

“Even if he gets caught, you should be able to vouch for him since he was only carrying out your orders,” Rune said to Sehun.

Sehun handed Vrangrord a hunk of hare meat. The dog ate it graciously from his hand.

“What about you?” Rune then asked Raven. “Do you plan to go all the way with us?”

Raven’s dark gaze shifted to Sehun for a fleeting moment before it turned to Rune again. “I serve the Blood Faith. And I will do whatever it takes to help Daz’gon not contaminate the faith any longer. I will be delighted to fight for you.”

Rune gave a small nod. Sehun lowered his eyes to the roasted hare leg he was holding on his lap. Vrangrord whimpered, sniffing the meat, trying to get a shy bite of it.

Sehun let him have the whole meat. Securing the leg between his teeth, the dog settled under a tree to eat in quiet.

“Here.” He glanced at Rune who was offering a large slab of the hare meat. Sehun blinked.

“No, it’s… all right,” he mumbled, trying to not let the blood fill his cheeks embarrassingly when Rune smiled, pressing the dense, flavourless, charred animal meat into Sehun’s hands.

He then rose from his seat and marched over to Prymos. Sehun licked his lips, tearing his gaze from the man to sink his teeth slowly into the hare meat.

“You are not a vegetarian?” Raven asked.

Sehun was not in the mood to make conversations with the bitch. So, he kept mum and silently ate the food Rune had offered him. Something sparked inside him then as he recalled all the times Rune had brought him a sweetmeat or candied rose petals when he was a child, even though he was forbidden from consuming sugar at night. His mother had said it made him too spry and difficult.

“He is,” Zelos said. “But it is hard to be that picky about food on the road.”

Raven smirked. “It _isn’t_ hard for those who faithfully want to remain true to their creed. You’d do anything for your faith if you were true to it.”

Sehun lost his appetite in spite of not having eaten anything for a while. He left the hare meat on the rock he was sitting on and walked away from the fire.

* * *

They soon found the roads again eventually after a whole day of riding, and it was time for them to bid Zelos farewell. Rune told him to be safe through the night and that they would soon meet beyond the Woodlands before giving his shoulder a firm squeeze. Zelos bowed his head to Sehun and said, “I will return soon, cousin.”

Even though the man was just another family member Sehun was disconnected with, throughout the journey, Zelos had never once made him feel timorous, unlike the rest of Sehun’s family had for all his life. Sehun wished him to come back safe because he still needed the Captain alive.

Zelos smiled and mounted his horse. As he rode away, Rune reined Prymos to trot onwards. Vrangrord kept a steady pace, walking behind Prymos and ahead of Sehun.

Their next stop was when they managed to spy a signboard that showed them which direction Akrowyth was.

And on the same board was the sketch of a wanted criminal. Sehun’s heart dropped as Rune dismounted Prymos to tear the parchment from the signboard to scrutinize it.

He then heaved a sigh, pulling his cowl off his head. “They have posters of me,” he said. “I will be arrested the instant I walk into a civilization.”

“We’ll be careful,” said Sehun. “And… for as long as I’m with you, they would not do anything against my word.”

“Unless the word comes from the King of Raenythör and not his traitor brother, who helped a criminal escape,” Raven said.

Sehun ignored her. “Let’s stop for a while.”

Rune did not object to the suggested rest stop. They pulled over to the roadside. While Rune turned to a tree to take a piss, Sehun sat down on the dirt to give his buttocks a break. Vrangrord also seemed grateful for the rest as he quickly climbed into Sehun’s lap for a nap. He clearly was too big to fit. Sehun chortled as the dog only managed to get a part of his front body to settle in the lap. As he stroked his fingers through the dog’s fur, Vrangrord eased into a fast slumber.

Raven was talking to Rune. Sehun couldn’t hear what she was saying as Rune laced his trousers up. She then drew a dagger from her boot. Sehun watched curiously without batting an eye as Rune knelt down on the ground.

Then positioning herself behind Rune, Raven collected the man’s hair in one hand and chopped it off with the dagger. Sehun almost gasped, but he bit his tongue instead. She dragged the blade up the nape of Rune’s neck, razing off most of the hair there, leaving only a stubble behind.

When she was finally done, Rune was left with fairly long strands at the front and top, but the sides and the lower back of his head were cropped really short.

Sehun felt his breathing shallow as the man rose back to his feet and dusted the hairs from his clothes. He now looked like the Rune Sehun remembered from his childhood. Hair short, a strange hairstyle for Akrowian men. But he was so handsome with that hair then and he still was now.

“This certainly feels odd but relieving,” Rune remarked with a lopsided smile as he walked back to the horse. “Thank you, Raven.”

Raven nodded her head. “We should get moving again if we’re going to reach the Woodlands before sunup.”

Rune then turned to Sehun, who immediately dropped his gaze to Vrangrord on his lap. What had happened to him? For the past couple of days, he had not been feeling himself.

Now, he felt like that nine-year-old boy that would not stop thinking about how Rune Degenhard was the most handsome man in the world.

“Are you good to ride again?” Rune asked him, and Sehun looked up at him again, attempting to maintain a sour expression.

“Sure,” he muttered and started to rise to his feet, rousing the dog in the process.

“Shh,” Raven hissed all of a sudden, his eyes darker than usual as she glared down the road.

The branches of the trees that lined the sides of the road rustled, and Sehun spun around to stare into the dark of the woods.

Vrangrord started snarling viciously, baring all of his teeth at the trees, his ears sticking back, head held down predatorily.

Sehun took a step away from the bestial dog, gawking at the beast. He had never seen Vrangrord like this.

He felt a hand on a side of his waist and looked back at Rune, who was louring into the woods, too. He drew Sehun away and stepped forward.

Then without notice, men vaulted off the trees and landed on the ground with a thud.

“Bandits,” Raven rasped, drawing her sabre. Sehun drew his own silversword, rubbernecking at the men that had them surrounded in a flash. They were dressed in wolf and bear pelts, bones hanging to their necks and waists.

One of them brushed past the others and confronted them with an adze in his hand. Blood pulsed in Sehun’s temples as he realized there were at least fifteen of them.

“Nice horses you have there,” the bandit remarked in an accented tone. “Would sell for at least few golds if we don’t eat them first.”

Vrangrord growled and snapped his teeth at the man. The bandit stumbled and flinched before he held the adze toward the dog.

“We do not have any valuables,” Raven said, although her grip around the black sabre tightened.

“Vrangrord, no,” Sehun muttered to the bristling dog that was ready to pounce on the bandit. Hearing the command in Sehun’s voice, the dog did not charge, but it continued to snarl.

“Travellers with no valuables?” the bandit scoffed. Rune was unmoving, but his hands at his sides were wound into taut fists.

“We speak the truth,” Rune then said gruffly. “We do not own any valuables.”

The bandit’s gaze turned to Rune then. His eyebrows drew together as he took a good look at Rune’s face in the dark of the night.

“You look… familiar,” the bandit said.

Rune’s jaw tightened.

“This is a pretty one,” another man remarked, and Sehun glanced at him to realize the bandit was staring at him, smirking with complacency. “We could sell this one to men who like pretty boys.”

The chief of the bandits licked his lips as he averted his attention from Rune to Sehun.

Sehun flared with anger then. He lifted his sword to the bandit that stepped toward him. “Touch me and there will be blood,” he warned the bandits.

With a cackling laughter, the bandits closed around him. “You’re going to kill us with this shiny toy?” the bandit chief snorted, shoving the silversword out of the way. “I’ll tell you what. You leave us the big, black horse. And this pretty boy with the pretty hair and the pretty sword. And we’ll let you two live.” He was bargaining with Rune and Raven.

When Sehun looked to them, neither of them reacted.

“Get the horse,” the bandit chief ordered. “And let’s bag this beauty for some really bad men.” Grinning, he edged closer and lifted a hand to Sehun’s chest.

And that was when Rune spun around to Prymos, and the instant his hand found the handle of the battle-axe, he withdrew it from the saddlebags. With one swift move and a fierce roar, Rune struck the bandit’s arm, whose hand was touching Sehun. The battle-axe glowed fiery red along the engravings as it severed the man’s arm from his body.

Screaming, the bandit stumbled back, blood drenching his pelts. Sehun panted, retreating, as Vrangrord leaped off the ground and sprung onto the bandit chief, his teeth immediately locking around the man’s neck before the head was ripped off his body.

Rune swivelled the battle-axe in his hand as the bandit chief dropped dead on the ground. As the dog gave a thunderous bark that broke every silence of the night, the veins in Rune’s arms blazed, like the red of hellfire, all the way up to his neck before his eyes turned completely red just like they had the night they were attacked by the Deathless.

“Oh, God,” one of the bandits let out. Their eyes were close to popping out of their sockets.

“Try touching him again,” Rune said, his voice melding with the sound of a demon lord’s. It sounded monstrous. Sehun saw Hell, in the form of a man, stand before him. He didn’t realize he had lost his grip on the sword until it clanged against the gravels on the road.

Rune crossed the bandit chief’s corpse. While some of the bandits twirled around and ran for their lives, a handful charged at Rune with their pickaxes and adzes. With a single strike, Rune beheaded two of them before he stomped on another bandit’s chest, sending him to the ground simultaneously hurling the battle-axe at a bandit that had tried to flee. It jutted through the back of the man’s head. Booting the bandit on the ground, Rune snapped the man’s neck before he strutted over to the other dead bandit to retrieve his battle-axe.

He lifted a left hand and clenched into a fist that radiated the deepest hues of red as the Death Mark glared.

The Dead unfolded from forest, making their presence known. A shiver ran down Sehun’s spine as he stumbled back, still unable to swallow the fact that the Dead walked the ground. They materialized before his very eyes at Rune’s command and barrelled toward the fleeing bandits.

Rune spared none of them that night, and the woods filled with their screams and hopeless cries.

Although a part of Sehun believed that these wicked men deserved it for the countless many innocent travellers they might have wounded, he could not stomach the horror that was laid out before him.

Turning to the last remaining bandit, who had gone down on his knees to beg for mercy, Rune gripped the battle-axe.

“What are you?” the bandit, whose death was staring straight into his eyes, asked breathlessly, face streaked with tears.

“The Diminisher,” Rune growled and swung the battle-axe the decapitated the man.

Then as the red on his body, eyes, Death Mark, and battle-axe died, the Dead that had gathered around him disappeared into the fogginess of the forest.

Heaving arduously, Rune walked back to Raven and Sehun, blood dripping from the battle-axe.

Raven, though appeared to be as shaken as Sehun was, said, “They were just lowly bandits that mugged travellers.”

Rune looked at her, mouth drawn back with a fierce snarl. “No one touches him,” he spat her threateningly, his voice sounding like his own again.

He did not spare Sehun a glance, however, as he mounted Prymos.

When Sehun could finally move again, he picked the silversword from the ground and looked at Vrangrord’s bloody jaw. He grimaced but gave the dog’s head a brief rub. His heart continued to pound as he climbed onto his horse.


	4. Chapter 4

# P A R T   T H R E E

* * *

 

# C H A P T E R   E I G H T

By the time the sun came up, they were riding closer toward the Woodlands. Every stone that took them closer to the City of Akrowyth unnerved Rune a little bit more.

He knew what the boy thought of him now. A monster. Rune was not going to prove him wrong. If history was any indication, the Young Prince did not react well to people telling him he was wrong. And he wasn’t wrong, anyways.

Rune _was_ a monster. But he always had been one. Even before he could wield the Diminisher’s Axe. He had taken countless men’s lives before. He never stopped to question whether they were good or bad, if they had families and children. He did what he had always done to survive and then to serve his Queen. This was the kind of man he had always been.

And it had never bothered him until now.

He had seen the horror in the Young Prince’s eyes last night. He had been _afraid_ of Rune had become. Whether that was due to his identification as a pious devotee of God and all things pure or not, Rune had not been able to remove Sehun’s horrified expression from his mind. Just like how he hadn’t been able to take his mind off the tender, careful look the boy had given him on the night of the storm as he examined the cut on Rune’s palm.

Rune wondered when and if the boy would cave and give in to the assailing desires that often swam in his eager, brown eyes.

Following Alastríona’s death, Rune had not had a chance to consider anything other than avenging her and clearing his name by proving to Garan that Rowana and the Blood Cult had behind everything.

But the moment he decided to forgo his intents for a beat, he began to _see_ Sehun. And it was _wrong_ to see him like that. Rune was completely aware of it. It was so wrong in so many ways.

Even so, something had changed in his heart the night of the storm.

The heat of the south began to lick at his nape that was now uncovered by his hair. He kept the lower part of his face masked as they rode past a small village located near the Woodlands, slowly and quietly, without attracting too much attention to themselves.

Almost on the outskirts of the village, a farmer halted them. He had a bright smile on his face and he appeared to be old.

“Good day, travellers,” he greeted. “Travelling to the city?”

Rune gave a nervous and curt nod.

“May I offer you a drink and a meal?” the farmer said. “My daughter makes a great beef pottage.”

Raven cleared her throat. “That won’t be necessary,” she told the farmer. “We are fine.”

Rune did not think they were entirely fine. Both Sehun and his dog, Babypaw, looked exhausted, sleepless and famished. But stopping for a rest would be dangerous.

The farmer neared Prymos and looked up at Rune. “Believe me, Lord Vanguard,” he then muttered softly. “You do not want to ride out there in the broad daylight. The guards are swarming everywhere.”

Rune’s jaw loosened a little as he gaped at the farmer. He then raised his head to glance around the villagers. They did not seem to pay any heed to him.

Climbing down the stallion, Rune accepted the farmer’s offer.

He, Raven, and Sehun, and the dog that insisted on following Sehun everywhere, were soon rushed into the cottage before the farmer bolted the door behind him.

“Papa?” a girl called as she appeared from the kitchen.

“Ah, Tilda,” the man said. The girl jumped, gasping loudly when she saw the dog.

“That’s the biggest dog I’ve ever seen!” she exclaimed. “Who are these men?” she then asked, blinking her wide eyes at Rune.

“Just some travellers seeking respite.” The man gave his daughter a kiss on the head. “Will you be a darling and make these men something to lunch?”

The girl nodded warily before she disappeared into the kitchen once more.

“I will be right back,” the farmer said. “I will take your horses to hitch them at the back of the house. Make yourselves at home.”

As he stormed out, Raven looked at Rune with a dubious frown. “Do you trust this man? He could be getting the guards as we speak,” she said.

Rune hushed her to stay quiet.

The farmer returned after a while and took a deep breath, fidgeting with his hands before he turned and fell to his knees before Sehun. “Your Excellency,” he rasped. “I am far beyond honoured to have you stand in my humble home.”

Sehun lowered the cowl from his head and stared at the man. “How did you… know?”

“I have seen you,” the man said without raising his head. “When I was at the Common Temple one day.” He looked up at the Young Prince with glistening eyes. “Everyone in Akrowyth was beginning to think something hapless might have befallen you. I am grateful to the Gods that you are well.”

Sehun shared a brief glance with Rune. “You may rise,” he then told the farmer.

The man stood up and faced Rune. “My brother served in the Queen’s army, which you commanded,” he said. “He has told me many great things about you, Lord Vanguard.”

“I have been dismissed of that title,” Rune informed him.

“Ah, yes.” The farmer hurried to clear the dining table that was all shoddy and old. “Please. Have your seats.”

“Why are you helping us?” Rune asked.

“Well, for one, the Prince does not seem like he is held captive against his will,” the farmer pointed out. “And I do not believe you would have killed the Queen.”

“Why wouldn’t you believe that?”

“Because you saved my brother’s life,” the man said. “by sacrificing yours.”

Rune blinked. Then he recalled the battle where he had died and come back to life after facing Hergroc. He had stepped in front of a sword that was aimed at a fellow soldier to save him.

“I never believed you would have done such a thing,” the farmer said. “Not the man who could jump in front of a sword for a mere soldier he barely knew.”

Rune removed the mask and bowed his head. Then the Prince said, “He did not do it. I know it. And the rest of the kingdom will, too.”

The farmer smiled. “The new King has put up bounty for your head,” he told them, frowning gravely. “It wouldn’t be wise of you to march into the city right now. Even if the city guards catch you, there is no guarantee they would not take your head first for the bounty money.”

“We must meet with the King,” Rune said.

“We could send for him,” Raven suggested.

Sehun agreed to that with a nod. “There is a better chance of him reaching us than us reaching him.” He turned to the farmer once more. “Will you bring the palace guards a note from me?”

“Y-Your Majesty, I doubt they would even entertain me at the gates,” the man said with trepidation.

“They will if you say my name and if you bring him my sword.”

The farmer did not argue. He simply nodded his head. “If that is your order, Your Grace. I will deliver your word immediately. Until then, would you give me the honour of accepting my offer for a meal and a bed, Your Grace and Milord?” he asked both Sehun and Rune.

“We will accept your offer,” Sehun said. “And may the graces of Idaemïr stay with you for your kind-heartedness.”

When the daughter returned, the farmer told her to ready the room for their guests.

* * *

With a belly full of pottage, Rune sneaked out of the backdoor of the cottage to check on the horses. Prymos and the others were given plenty of hay, carrots and water.

“Milord,” said the farmer when he found Rune at the back of the cottage.

“You needn’t call me that,” Rune told him kindly as he mustered the folded raiment the farmer was holding in his hands.

“These are my brother’s,” he said. “I think they would fit you. They might be a little snug, though.”

Rune surveyed the trousers and shirt. “Thank you.” He accepted them.

“There is water in the well if you fancy yourself a bath.”

“Is that your way of saying I stink?”

“Oh, Milord, I would never.”

Rune smirked. “Relax, old man. I’m joking.”

The farmer chuckled nervously and went back inside. Rune started for the well. Drawing a few buckets of water, he stripped from the dirty, bloody clothes he wore and washed himself as the afternoon sky started darkening, making way for the evening.

He appreciated the good, cold water that cascaded down his skin. He also appreciated the clean, fresh clothes the farmer had brought him. They were a little snug, but they were certainly better than the soiled, sweaty clothes he had wearing for days.

He had also given his now short hair a good wash.

“You are a man of the palace after all,” he heard Raven remark as she joined him. She had stripped from her riding raiment for something cleaner, too. But they were clearly men’s clothing. It did not fit her too bad, though.

“Why? Because I bathed?” Rune asked.

“You have much to worry about and yet here you are, primping yourself, oh great Diminisher.” She smirked.

Rune groaned, leaning against the edge of the well. “You shouldn’t be here with us. It is not safe.”

“I have encountered far more danger than the Young Prince has, and you let _him_ stay here with us,” she said, pressing against Rune’s side.

“That is only because it is safer for him to be here than to be elsewhere.”

Raven gave it a good thought. “Do you think Daz’gon had the Queen killed because she was the figurehead of the Idaems?”

“I have thought about it, too.”

“Then the King and the Young Prince would also be in danger,” she said.

Rune nodded his head. “But Daz’gon has not done anything to Garan yet. He must have plans. What exactly are his plans?”

“I have been meaning to ask you this,” Raven said, digressing from the topic at hand. “When it is all over, are you going to still serve the Idaems?”

Rune simply stared at her for a stretch. Then he said, “I have other duties now, don’t I?”

When he had commanded the Dead last night, he had felt more powerful than the first time. As though wielding the Diminisher’s Axe had somehow given him more power over the Dead. And they had listened to him. Possessing that kind of power felt great. But it was also perilous.

“You can also not take on those duties,” Raven suggested in a low voice. Her hand reached and touched Rune’s tentatively. Rune’s brows furrowed a little. “Follow the Blood Faith, Rune. Accept the faith. Lead the Blood Cult onto the right path. Once Daz’gon has been defeated, the people of the Blood Faith still need a God to follow.”

Rune looked into her eyes. “What is your story?” he asked, realizing he still did not know many things about this mysterious woman.

Raven gave a small smile and the tattoos on her face curled. “The town I grew up in Craiweth only had dry wells. After my father died, my mother worked day and night making and selling pots. Life was hard for us. But even then, the Blood Faith never failed us.” Her hand tightened around Rune’s. “One night, I… heard the voice. It was calling me to the Temple of Ruinz. I knew my purpose in this world was meaningful then and I awaited my calling for many years until one day, I was told to journey to a tavern outside Akrowyth. That was when I found you and the Death Mark on your hand. The Blood Faith instructed me. And told me who you were and how important you were.”

In that moment, Rune could only think about Sehun. The boy had many achievements just to be as important as the others. But even now, he was believing that he was not important to anyone.

He was wrong. He was important to Rune. He had become very important to Rune.

“You have been my destiny,” Raven proceeded to say. She raised her other hand to stroke Rune’s bearded jaw.

Rune pulled away then. Raven frowned. “My destiny is… something else, Raven,” he said.

Blinking, Raven looked away. “I see.”

He left her pondering disappointedly on her own and gave Prymos a pat on his way back into the cottage. He found the farmer’s daughter in the kitchen, watching Babypaw eat the food she had given him from a safe distance with her hands held to her chest.

“He won’t bite,” Rune told her. “He’s friendly to nice people.”

The girl gawked at him like she had seen a ghost. “You are the biggest man I’ve ever seen,” she remarked in a whisper. “Like the dog.”

Rune stifled a laugh and wandered to the room the farmer had offered them. When he entered it, he found a bed, an oil lamp brightening the room, a trunk, and a wooden chair, which was occupied.

The Young Prince was quilling a letter, a serious look of concentration etched on his face.

Rune closed the door. Sehun’s head shot up. “Are you writing the missive to your brother?” he inquired.

“Yes,” the boy muttered and lowered his head again.

“Tell him to meet us northwest of the city where the Woodlands begin at sunup on Jorkdag.”

Sehun looked up at him with an eyebrow cocked.

“It is where we’ll wait for Zelos,” Rune said, crossing the room to get to the other side where the boy was sitting at. “And tell him not to tell anyone, especially Rowana, about this rendezvous.”

“I am not an idiot,” Sehun said. “I know how to write a missive to my brother.”

“I did not say that you were.”

“Then stop patronizing me.” He jolted up to his feet and settled the parchment and the inked quill on the chair before he started past Rune.

Rune halted him, a hand flying up to grab the boy by the arm. Sehun glared at him.

“Release me,” he said commandingly.

Rune did release his arm. But he pressed a hand to the Prince’s belly instead, pushing him back until he was pinned against the wall.

Sehun’s lips parted to gape with surprise, his eyes wide and astounded.

Rune then lifted a hand to the Prince’s fair hair. Running his fingers through it, he undid the braids and let all of the hair fall.

The boy’s cheeks immediately pinked, and his eyelids fell heavy. He was no longer looking up at Rune anymore. “What… are you… doing?” the Prince asked in a breathy whisper.

Had this happened a few weeks ago, the boy would have already drawn his sword to fight Rune. But now, he was only flabbergasted and confused, his hands at the sides fumbling for something to do.

“You are important to me now,” Rune said, voice low and guttural as he cupped the underside of Sehun’s jaw gently, drawing a thumb along the sharp angle of the jaw’s edge. “Do I… taint you if I…” He moved the hand to hold a side of the boy’s face.

He was half expecting the Prince to push him away or at least punch him across the face. But all that Sehun did was close his eyes and lean into Rune’s touch grievingly.

“Yes,” he whispered at length, lips quivering lightly.

Rune closed whatever little distance that was left between them and bowed his head low, forehead almost brushing Sehun’s. “Then why not stop me?” he asked.

He felt the boy shudder beneath him. His eyes eventually opened weakly as he moved his face to rub his cheek against the rough scarring wound on Rune’s palm.

He then raised his hands to Rune’s chest. “Please… stop.”

This was new. It was all very new. The boy had never been so vulnerable. And the closer Rune got to him, the more he fell apart. His eyes were lightly glistening with worried tears.

“You are… lying,” Sehun muttered meekly. “You’d forget me. I am not… better than my mother.”

“I loved Alastríona,” Rune said. “I would have done anything she ordered as a Queen.” He ran his fingers through the Prince’s silky hair, tucking it behind the boy’s reddened ear. “But I would not have fought for her love. I had never been that brave. Not until now.”

A lovely blush spread across Sehun’s cheekbones, but his eyes were full of dread when they lifted to meet Rune’s.

Rune leaned in and brushed his lips to Sehun’s cheek. He heard the boy suck in a sharp, shaky breath, fingers tightening around Rune’s shirt. “Does this also defile your purity?” Rune purred, beard grazing the Prince’s supple cheek.

If Rune had not already noticed how beautiful Sehun was before, he certainly did now. Though he bore many of Alastríona’s resemblance, there was a whole different deal about the beauty that came with the boy. He was an angry one, no doubt about that. But that need for hostility aside, everything else about him was just soft and pure.

Like the two pink petals for lips that quivered every time Rune got a little closer to them. Those brown eyes that used speak the tones of his mother now held a fire that only he could set ablaze. The high cheekbones, the full brows, the perfect eyelashes, the palest, milkiest skin in all of Akrowyth. He truly was beautiful.

A small whimper broke from Sehun’s throat. “What are you doing?” he rasped breathily.

“Giving you what you’ve desired all your life,” said Rune. “You are worthy of my attention and affection, My Prince. So, stop me only if you think my hands that are damned to Hell would taint your chastity.”

“Rune…” Sehun exhaled, trembling hands rising to wrap around Rune’s shoulders before they were forced to come apart when they heard the rapping on the door.

“Come in,” Rune yapped annoyedly. The farmer entered and bowed before them.

“I have readied my wagon and horse, Your Grace, Milord,” he said. “Do you have the missive ready?”

Sehun, croaking out a rough “yes”, hurried to get the parchment from the chair. “Just a moment,” he muttered, his face and neck still burning red as he scribbled the final details in the letter. Then rolling it up, he picked up the scabbarded silversword from the ground and handed it to the farmer along with the letter. “They would take you to my brother when you bring them this.”

The farmer took them and bowed his head once more. “If you should need anything while I’m away, Tilda will look to your needs.”

“We will be fine,” Sehun said, managing a smile. “You have already done plenty of favours for us by letting us into your home.”

The farmer beamed graciously before leaving them alone in the room again.

Rune stared at the Young Prince’s back as the boy stood as still as a statue. When he tried to touch the Prince’s hand, Sehun blenched and pulled away.

“Do not,” he said, voice weak. “I do not understand what you are playing at. But you do not mean what you just said.”

Rune scowled then. “I meant every word of it.”

Sehun refused to meet his eyes as he said, “You told me that you did not see me that way. What changed?”

“Everything.” Rune stepped forward, but the boy retreated.

“Stay,” he warned the man. “I will not let myself guard down again.”

Frowning, Rune stopped. “I am not… playing with you, if that’s what you think this is.”

Something like perplexity pulled upon the Prince’s face. Then he said, “It does not matter, anyway. I am… a member of the… sect. If someone found out… I’d…” He swallowed. “Please, do not come near me again.”

For the longest of time, Sehun had been saying that he did not want Rune near him. But it took Rune a moment to realize that he hadn’t meant any of it. However, now, as he stood there, shaking, pleading Rune to not to go near him, he sounded afraid. Rune wondered what might have brought upon that fear.

Was it because now it was all too real?

“My days are numbered on the ground,” Rune muttered, teeth gnashing. “If you really do not wish for my affection anymore, then I will not go near you again. But if the reason you’re pushing me away now is your faith and your God, then I will not even look in your way until you beg on your knees for me to taint you.”

Sehun looked at him forlornly at first. Then he glowered. Without a reply, he stormed out of the room. Rune heaved a sigh, rubbing his creased forehead, carding his fingers through his short hair.

He should not have let himself fall for the stubborn boy. Sehun was incapable of understanding what he truly wanted. He was erratic, unsettled, and inconsistent with his desires. But Rune was the complete opposite. Once he decided on what he wanted, he did not waver. His longings could remain steadfast for years.

Perhaps it was not the night of the storm that had triggered his feelings for the boy. Perhaps it was a lot earlier than that. Perhaps Rune was refusing to acknowledge his attraction toward the boy for reasons that would later harm them both. Especially Sehun.

* * *

As the sun rose in the horizon the next day, the farmer returned with good news. He said that the guards had taken the missive and the silversword to the King.

Rune felt well-rested, thankful for the farmer for allowing him a sleep on a proper bed after too long.

“You have to be careful, Milord,” the farmer said as Rune mounted his horse. “Follow this path to the Woodlands. It is less frequented.”

Rune bowed his head. “I thank you for your hospitality and your favours.”

The farmer smiled. “It is the least I could do for a man who’s saved my brother’s life.” He then looked to the Prince. “Your Grace, I bid you good luck on your endeavours.”

“Thank you. And may Idaemïr smile upon you and your family for the kindness you’ve extended to us,” said Sehun.

Rune gritted his teeth. At his side, Raven was quiet. She had been ever since Rune had turned down her offers last night.

Tilda gave Babypaw a rub on the head, giggling. The dog licked the girl’s face once before it galloped back to Sehun.

As they set forth for the Woodlands, Rune kept his eyes to himself and on the road that ran through the woods. The path was unfrequented as the farmer had promised.

If Zelos had managed to convince the retired soldiers in Lavirtïr to meet Rune, then they should be on their way to the Woodlands right now. In two days’ time, Rune surmised they would be meeting along with King Garan, should the missive have reached His Grace’s hands.

Rune glanced over at the dog that skipped ahead of them. His eyes unconsciously rose to the silver-haired Prince. Sehun had not returned to the room after he left it last night. And like Rune, he was also avoiding any eye-contact. But the apprehension on his frown was as clear as day. The boy was sulking. Deeply. Rune wondered if it were about what he had told the Prince.

They stopped to camp when the night turned too dark to travel safely. They were close to the City of Akrowyth to be attracting trouble right now.

Raven suggested that they pitch the tents in the forest, away from the roads. Rune agreed. Sehun said nothing.

They found a small stream into the woods. Rune was glad for the fresh water that quenched his scalding thirst.

Raven said that she was going to take a dip. The heat was getting to her. As she stripped, Rune looked away. But only for a moment. She was a beautiful woman, body toned with light muscles. But he was more enticed by the inks tattooed to almost every inch of her body. He tried to decipher them as she climbed into the water.

“The tents are ready,” he heard Sehun’s voice from behind. When he turned around, he found a disappointed scowl etched to the boy’s brows. He did not wait to catch Rune’s gaze as he turned on his heel and marched back into the trees.

Sighing, Rune perched back against a boulder and retrieved the Diminisher’s Axe from the saddlebags to examine it while Prymos rested with the other horses.

“It feels powerful to wield it, doesn’t it?” Raven asked from the river.

Rune looked in her way. She smiled, her hair wet, rivulets of water dripping down her face. “It feels like I could wield Hell itself in my hands.” He dropped his eyes back to the battle-axe on his lap. “But it also feels… wrong.”

“You are of Blood Faith, Rune,” she said. “You have been around the Idaem Faith all your life. But has that ever gotten you to convert? To believe in that faith? The Blood Cult will always be sturdier in our faith that those Idaems. This isn’t wrong.”

Rune loured at his Death Mark then.

Raven pulled herself out of the water and prowled toward Rune, water trickling down her naked body, which did not seem all that naked with the tattoos covering up most of her skin.

She stopped before him and said, “You could have the world in your hands. With the right leader, the Blood Cult would thrive. We could fight against the Idaems. They wouldn’t stand a chance against the Diminisher.”

Rune closed his eyes for a moment and drew a breath. When he opened them again, he rose from the rock and said, “My heart’s set elsewhere, Raven.” He picked up the shirt from the ground and draped it over the woman’s bare body. “I should go get some rest.”

Leaving Raven to frown on her own, Rune marched to the tents. He found the dog in one of them, its head sticking out. Though it was resting, its languid gaze followed Rune, who approached another tent.

* * *

He had been sleepless that night. His journey was about to come to an end, but the adventure had yet to see its own. As he lay uncomfortably on the makeshift bed of cloak, shirt, and saddlebags, he stared into the dark tent, an arm tucked under his head. The night was too hot to be calming.

He thought of Alastríona. It would be strange to see Garan on the throne that was hers once. If he were ever at the palace again, he knew he’d miss seeing her in her Belvedere and gardens, smelling like the flowers.

He loved her. And that fact could not be changed. But he was telling the truth when he told Raven his heart was elsewhere now.

As the night wore on, he heard rustling outside the tent. He raised his head to look at the opening of the tent, hand almost wanting to reach for the battle-axe. And then he froze as a fair head ducked into the tent.

Rune’s jaw loosened. He sat up halfway, propping himself on his elbows to goggle vacantly at the Young Prince, who had entered his tent in the dead of the night.

Even in the dark, he could see the glimmer in the boy’s eyes as they shyly rose to meet Rune’s.

Rune almost asked what he was doing in here. But he was far too tongue-tied at the way the boy was standing before him—hands trembling at his sides, face taut with worry and defeat, eyes sad and longing, his hair loosely half-tied, a stray lock of it fallen over his face.

He went on his knees.

Pride washed away, years of resentment and doubt crumbled, faith withered, he yielded before Rune. A tear dropped from his eye.

Rune could only watch the boy in utter disbelief.

“If I am,” Sehun began in a feeble whisper. “enough for you… If what I’ve become is worthy of your affection… If you’d choose me over my mother… If you want _me_ … I am willing to taint myself for you. My faith is unwavering. But so is my love for you. So, here I kneel, _begging_ you to touch me.”

Rune had never felt his heart drum in a melodic rhythm that was more painful than a cut like this before. He shifted so that he was directly facing the boy now.

He wanted it. He wanted to ravage the boy and take him right here and right now. He wanted to taint his chaste body with all the filth Rune was.

Scowling, he ordered, “Take your clothes off.”

Sehun lifted his head, his miserable eyes looking at Rune as though they were pleading for mercy in a temple. But he did not utter an objection as he slowly rose back to his feet and took off his boots before he knelt down again. His fingers fumbled to undo the laces of his shirt and another tear rolled down his cheek.

With a growl on his lip, Rune lunged forward and grabbed the back of the boy’s head in a harsh grip. Drawing Sehun’s face closer to his own, he snarled at the Prince.

“There is no turning back, if you do this,” he warned the boy in another low growl, lips almost brushing Sehun’s. “I will not be loosening myself on you.”

He saw a softness in the boy then. One that he had never seen before. Submission.

“I don’t… want you to,” he mewled, standing on all fours between Rune’s legs as Rune held the back of his head, fingers wound around the hair.

Sehun shut his eyes, a hand risen to Rune’s chest and his fingers splayed over the scar there. He parted his lips to suck in a shaky breath. Rune covered the boy’s mouth with his own then, lips crashing against one another brutally.

The kiss seared into Rune’s very soul and took him by surprise, even if he were the one who had initiated it. It was nothing like he had ever imagined. He had been with countless people. Both men and women. But he had been blessed with the chance of kissing someone he desired more than life itself.

A guttural, rough groan broke from his throat as he lost himself into the kiss. Unlike his own chapped lips, Sehun’s were tender and smooth. And completely inexperienced.

And that drove Rune even closer toward insanity. His grip tightened around the boy’s hair as he deepened the kiss, parting Sehun’s mouth open with his tongue. Holding the Prince’s jaw with his free hand, Rune kissed him hard like there was no tomorrow.

He broke the kiss momentarily to pant for some breath and to examine the boy’s face for signs of displeasure. Sehun gave none. In fact, he seemed drunk with the want for more. He then brought his fingers to run them along Rune’s bearded jaw.

Rune hoped Sehun could not hear his heart right now. But it was thundering at a gruelling pace. He brushed a thumb to Sehun’s lip.

“Kiss me again,” Sehun whispered against Rune’s thumb, and it almost sounded like a plea. He then replaced the thumb with his lips, kissing the boy violently once more.

Eventually, Sehun responded. Nervous and unsure at first, but his lips soon started moving against Rune’s, his cheeks and chin turning red due to Rune’s beard that scraped his skin. His hands moved tentatively to wrap around Rune’s neck. When he pulled back to gasp for air, Rune chased his lips again, smashing their mouths together.

The boy withered and admitted defeat easily. Rune released his hair and jaw to slide his hands down to the slender waist to hoist Sehun up onto his lap.

Straddling Rune, the Prince bowed his head, trying to keep up with Rune’s kisses. His chest heaved heavily, fingers burying themselves in Rune’s hair.

Sehun had put his God aside to have Rune’s hands against his skin. To love the tainted man freely for one night. Rune had half the heart to rip the boy’s clothes open and fuck him until he forgot the God’s name forever.

“Rune,” he gasped into Rune’s mouth, gentle and raspy, hips cradling against the bigger man’s body.

Moving his hands from the boy’s waist, Rune slithered them into Sehun’s shirt. The hardened skin of his fingers scorched against the Prince’s bare skin, and Sehun withdrew from the kiss, lips smacking and glistening with their saliva.

He held onto Rune’s shoulders then, eyes clenched tightly and mouth sobbing for air. And as Rune slid his hands up the boy’s back, thumbs riding smoothly along the subtle curve of his torso, Sehun let out a soft moan.

That sound was maddeningly arousing. Rune slowed down then.

When the boy dropped his head again, lips aiming for Rune’s, he kissed the Prince tenderly, catching each of those petal-like lips one by one and savouring them to his heart’s content.

Every time Rune’s hands wandered further to explore an inch of his skin that was untouched by another man, Sehun’s lips gave way to a moan that Rune’s mouth graciously welcomed.

Retrieving his hand from the shirt, Rune worked on the laces of it without disconnecting his lips from Sehun’s. Once he was done, he broke apart to gaze into the boy’s eyes.

Sehun rose on his knees and drew his hands from Rune’s shoulders down to the man’s arms before he dragged them along Rune’s chest, marvelling at every scar, every taut muscle that resided there. Then with an anxious frown, he hooked his fingers around the hem of his own unlaced shirt.

Rune brought a hand to a side of the boy’s ribs. “I want to touch you,” he groaned quietly. “All of you.”

With some hesitance, Sehun yanked the shirt off and discarded it to the ground. Rune sucked in a heavy breath, standing in awe as he relished the sight before him. His lustful gaze slowly rose from the narrow navel to the flat planes of Sehun’s belly and the pebbled, pink nipples. All against a perfectly unsullied skin, whose hue reminded Rune of pearly alabaster. When he raised his gaze further, he found the boy blushing, eyelids almost drawn all the way down. He looked embarrassed and guilt-stricken.

As much as Rune wanted to be a better man and stop this from happening, he could not. Latching his hands to the sides of Sehun’s svelte body that had the undertones of a swordfighter’s build, he leaned in and pressed a firm, yet gentle kiss to the boy’s belly, just above the navel.

The Prince slid a hand around the scruff of Rune’s neck, exhaling a nearly inaudible moan. “Don’t…” Sehun whimpered. He entangled his fingers in Rune’s hair, gripping the short strands there as Rune placed another kiss on his stomach. “Ah…” the Prince breathed out, Rune’s beard pricking his skin there, turning the ivory to crimson.

Rune ventured lower to kiss Sehun’s navel, dipping the tip of his tongue into it to tease the boy. The noise that broke from Sehun’s throat sent gushes of blood to Rune’s loins. He felt him grow harder by the beat under the boy.

He then caught one of Sehun’s wrists and clutched at it harshly, gazing up at the scarlet face. “Don’t tell me ‘don’t’ if you don’t mean it,” he ordered sternly.

The florid dusting on Sehun’s cheeks deepened. He did not argue back. Good. Licking his lips and with a shallow, laboured breathing, the boy walked his hands down Rune’s chest, fingers skidding past the fine chest hairs, following the trail of hairs all the way down to Rune’s abdomen. Then pinning his hands onto the hard muscles, he sat down on Rune’s lap, crotch against crotch.

“How was it to be kissed?” Rune asked, pressing his lips to a corner of the boy’s mouth. “Did I taint you with my sins?”

Sehun’s breathing quickened even more. His fingernails dug into Rune’s abdominal muscles while Rune pulled his silver hair away to kiss the crook of his neck. He cocked his head in an angle, fighting back a moan that was threatening to betray his lips as Rune sank teeth into his skin, gently enough to not to break it.

“Oh, God… Uh…” the boy panted, squirming and shivering when Rune drew his mouth up the side of his neck, kissing his way up to the jaw.

“Does this feel like it’s a sin?” Rune asked. It was a question. He demanded an answer.

“R-Rune,” was all that Sehun gave him in a cracked voice.

Lips now caressing the boy’s ear, Rune breathed, “When you say my name like that, it really does sound like a sin.”

Sehun raised his hands to Rune’s shoulders again, nails piercing into the skin on the back of them.

Pulling himself down, Rune let his beard graze against the reddened milky skin before he touched the one of the scarlet nipple with his lips.

Sehun bit onto his lower lip to stifle a moan, Rune’s warm breath blanketing the rapidly hardening nipple. His tongue then darted out to give the nipple a teasing lick. Rune felt the front of his pants get impossibly tight while Sehun bit his lip harder, face scrunched up in an agonizing pleasure.

“I have yet to meet someone as beautiful as you,” Rune remarked, sounding nearly breathless.

Sehun opened his eyes to look at him. “You don’t… have to lie…”

Rune kissed the nipple. “I’m not, Prince,” he muttered and gave the nipple a gentle suck. Sehun gave in and moaned, it almost sounded like a cry. He hardened against Rune’s tongue that swirled around the member, lips latched around it.

“God… Oh, my God,” Sehun kept gasping. “Rune…” He shoved at Rune’s shoulders, pushing him back. He then bowed his head and kissed Rune desperately. Just how long had Sehun been waiting for this? Just how hard he must have fought to keep these thoughts away because he believed they’d never be realized.

Rune caught the boy’s bottom lip between his teeth and gave it a light tug, drawing another whimper out of the boy’s mouth.

“If you are going to Hell,” Rune rasped against Sehun’s trembling lips. “for liking this, then I will chase you to Hell, Sehun.”

Kissing him viciously again, Rune grabbed the back of Sehun’s thighs and rose to his knees before plopping the boy down on the makeshift bed. Sehun breathed hard, lying back on the cloak on the ground. Spreading his knees open, he allowed Rune to position himself between them as he leaned in and commanded Sehun’s lips back for a kiss.

“I don’t… want this to stop,” the boy admitted, a tear dribbling down the corner of his eye. “I don’t want you… to stop. I need you, Rune. I need you to look at me. To _see_ me. Only… me for just tonight.”

Rune was going to be driven completely insane before the night ends, he was sure of that.

He knelt up to behold the beatific sight that was laid before him. The long, greyish fair hair was spread out under Sehun, who looked like he was already ruined and done for.

The boy believed in his faith. But his heart’s desires were far stronger than his faith.

In that moment, Rune realized he had fallen entirely for the boy. No one had ever loved him the way Sehun did. And no one was certainly daring enough to risk everything for him.

Rune kissed him deeply, passionately until their lips were throbbing from it. Then he moved his lips to the Prince’s lean neck, peppering it with kisses that had Sehun sinking his fingernails into Rune’s back.

Perhaps this was what the journey was supposed to mean for Rune. In all his life, he had never experienced affection like this. This affection was brutal, honest, confusing, unconventional, competitive, but it was also the truest love he had ever received. One that lasted and grew for years.

Neither of them had even imagined it would go this far. But it had and now, they did not want it to stop.

Rune lowered his kisses down Sehun’s body, savouring every inch of it. Reaching his belly, he kissed and sucked on a few spots, leaving them red and blemished.

“No…” Sehun wheezed, a hand clasping Rune’s hair at the back of his head when the man kissed along his waistline, edging dangerously close to where he wanted to be touched the most.

“No?” Rune asked, lifting his head.

The boy turned his face away, lower lip curled into his mouth. When Rune pressed another kiss to the spot beneath his navel, Sehun’s grip on his hair loosened, and he began to gently stroke Rune’s head, fingers enjoying running past the stubble on the nape.

Rune crawled lower. Hooking his arms around Sehun’s thighs from under, he kissed the hard knob between the boy’s legs.

Sehun clenched his eyes, a struggled barely whimper escaping his tightly sealed lips as Rune kissed him again and again over the fastened laces of the trousers.

“I want to hear you call it a sin when I have you in my mouth,” Rune murmured before his hand hurriedly undid the laces. “And then I want to see you scream for more when I’m fucking _your_ mouth.”

Sehun’s stomach expanded and deflated in a violent pace as he gasped for breath. His eyes flung open to look at Rune when the man was done unlacing his pants. His gaze was eager, curious. But also embarrassed and unsure.

Rune was about to alleviate all of his uncertainties. But most of all, he wanted to hold the boy in his mouth and taste what he was like. He wanted it to be an experience neither he nor Sehun would ever forget.

Plating one more kiss on Sehun’s lower belly, he drew the trousers down, just enough to free the arching, pulsating shaft. Rune took a moment to marvel at the pink cockhead that was leaking through the slit. When he lifted his gaze, he met Sehun’s, that was penetrating him anxiously.

Rune bowed his head and brushed his lips against the tip of the erection. Sehun dropped his head as his back arched off the ground.

Wrapping a hand around the base of the boy’s hardness, Rune stroked the slit with the tip of his tongue, licking up the pre-come.

“Holy… Lord,” Sehun moaned before covering his mouth with a hand.

“Have you never even touched yourself?” Rune inquired.

Sehun did not answer. He looked mortified.

With a smile, Rune licked along the underside of the cock before he wrapped his mouth around the cockhead. As Sehun’s breathing laboured hard and fast, Rune sank in, taking his whole length into his mouth, smearing it with spit and heat. His own cock was beginning to beg for attention. But he was far too engaged in the beauty of what was unravelling before him right now to bother with his own pleasure. He wanted to eat Sehun whole, show him a whole new world. And when it was all over, he wanted the boy to crumble in his arms, surrendering to the damned Hell for once.

“Rune,” Sehun let out, eyes rolling back with Rune’s hot, wet mouth enveloping him wholly. Rune pulled back and tongued the slit once more, exasperatingly slow this time. As his tongue flicked back and forth, the boy looked up at him, gaze jaded, and lips parted wide to gasp for air.

Eyes locked, Rune sucked him a few more times before crawling back up to kiss the Prince full on the mouth until he was begging Rune to let him breathe again. His hand around the boy’s shaft pumped the cock, thumb rubbing its head.

“Rune…” panted Sehun again and again until he only chanted Rune’s name, arms holding onto Rune like his life depended on it.

“Touch me,” Rune whispered into Sehun’s ear before he dropped his face against the boy’s neck to inhale the scent of his skin. He smelled of river water, sweat, and the forest. It was intoxicating. “Sehun…”

Sehun brought an unsteady hand down Rune’s chest to undo the laces of the man’s pants. As his hand palmed over the aching cock, Rune growled upon Sehun’s neck, pumping the boy’s cock harder.

Barely managing to unlace Rune’s pants, Sehun slipped his hand into them and wrapped his hand around Rune’s cock.

Rune raised his head to look into Sehun’s eyes, their mouths nearly touching as they gasped against one another. While Sehun’s one hand tightened around Rune’s shaft in the pants, the other clawed and gripped the skin on Rune’s back.

He came undone with a raspy groan that broke free from his grit teeth as he spilled all over his belly and Rune’s hand.

For a moment, they lay there, unmoving and catching their breath. But as the moment passed, Sehun wrapped his free hand lightly around Rune’s that was still clasped around his stained cock.

Rune looked up. The boy stared into his eyes with stars in his own. “That was… not supposed to… feel…” he began to say, sounding short-winded.

“That good?” Rune finished for him.

Sehun’s eyes were welled up with tears. Rune had not noticed. The boy then pushed himself halfway up to nuzzle into Rune’s neck.

Releasing the limp shaft, Rune interlaced his fingers with Sehun’s and pinned the Prince’s hand to the ground near Sehun’s head. Then he yanked the boy’s other hand out of his trousers to hold it to the other side of the head.

Sehun watched him attentively as Rune shifted to mount the Prince, kneeling on either side of him, holding his wrists down. Lust continued to swim in Sehun’s eyes. He had forgotten all about his God that moment. Rune drew the boy’s arms down to pin them down under his knees, trapping them against the ground so that Sehun would not be able to move them.

The Prince uttered no objection as Rune undid the rest of his pants’ laces before he took the cock in his hand and pulled it out. Sehun licked his lips, eyes roving the thick, swollen length in Rune’s hand.

With his other hand, Rune carded his fingers through the Prince’s hair to hold the top of the boy’s head. “Open your mouth,” he then ordered.

Sehun obeyed without questions. Pulling his pretty mouth open, his tongue jutted out. Rune clenched his teeth and huffed loudly, heavily, before he slid his cock into Sehun’s mouth. The boy gagged a little even before the head of the cock was fully in his mouth, stretching his lips open.

“Suck me in, slowly but tight,” Rune instructed the novice of a boy. Sehun swallowed and tried to follow the behest. His tongue slithered along the underside of Rune’s cock before his mouth ate Rune in invitingly. Rune closed his eyes and relished the heat and wetness of Sehun’s mouth as he tried slide further in. When the cockhead pressed against the back of Sehun’s throat, the boy stifled a cough. Rune pulled out and crushed Sehun’s mouth under his in a sloppy, needy kiss.

“You can have me, Rune,” gasped Sehun. “However you want. Please…”

“Not yet,” Rune whispered, kissing all over the boy’s face. “Not yet…”

Straightening back up, he thrust his cock into Sehun’s mouth once again. This time, he didn’t pull out as fast and kept thrusting until the boy’s jaw was slobbered with his own saliva. Rune grunted and huffed, rolling his hips to fuck the boy’s mouth that could barely take half of him in.

Withdrawing then, he took himself back in his hand and jerked his cock hard, feeling the fire that shot through his veins. The muscles in his body clenched and blood drummed in his ears unchecked as he felt himself edge closer to an ecstasy like no other.

Sehun kept his mouth open. And when Rune finally came, shooting white ropes of thickness onto the boy’s tongue, Sehun swallowed.

With the fire doused, relief swaddled Rune up in a splash of cold water. He dropped low to kiss Sehun on the mouth, tasting his own come upon the Prince’s beautifully swollen, red lips.

Freeing the boy’s arms, Rune got off Sehun and collapsed on the ground next to him. The world around them suddenly quietened. The tent was too small to hold them both in comfort. But Rune had no trouble with Sehun pressing up his side.

He took his time to gather his breath, an arm tucked under his head. He could not remember the last time he had ever had it that good and it was not even taken all the way.

At his side, the Young Prince sat up, his long hair cascading against his uncovered, sweaty back. He sat still for a moment, head hung.

Rune frowned. “What’s… wrong?” he asked quietly.

The boy answered at length and sounded miserable. “Is that it?” he muttered. Rune was confused. Was that… not enough? For a celibate priest? Or was it not up to his expectation? “Are you… done with me now?”

Then it hit Rune.

He sat up. Brought a hand to the boy’s back. Pressed a kiss to his shoulder. Sehun shuddered convulsively. “You couldn’t be more wrong, Your Grace,” Rune said, cupping Sehun’s cheek. “You have believed for the longest of time that you do not deserve me. But the truth is, no matter how much I try, I will never deserve you. You are of noble birth. I have no birthright. I do not even know if my name is really my name. But somehow, a _Prince_ has looked upon me with veneration and love like no other. A common man. A sinned soldier. A damned Nekrón. How could I possibly not fall for someone as honest as you? I do not deserve your love, Sehun. Just like I did not deserve Alastríona’s. She never loved me back. Even if she did, she’d never risk everything for me. But you do. I am your everything since you were a child. And I hadn’t known that. Not until now.” He leaned in and brushed a kiss to Sehun’s forehead before looking into his eyes again. “I am most certainly not done with you.”

Sehun dropped his face onto Rune’s shoulder then, an arm lightly draped around the man. In a whisper, he said, “I’m afraid…”

Rune’s brows dipped low and he pursed his lips.

Sehun’s fear was justifiable. Because Rune was afraid, too.

 

 

* * *

 

# C H A P T E R   N I N E

When the rush of the heat had cooled down, and the night was resisting daylight, they lay in the tent, not ready to let go of each other just yet.

The boy did not stop kissing as his body was tightly embraced by Rune’s strong arms. It took him a moment to grasp the ways of kissing, but once he had, he did not give Rune’s mouth a moment of respite. Rune kissed him back lazily, drowsily.

Sehun eventually pulled back, his fingers tracing a scar on Rune’s left temple. “I remember this one,” he whispered, only for Rune to hear. “You told me there was a good story behind this.”

“Did I?” Rune drawled, leaning forward to catch Sehun’s lips between his own once more. Sehun drew his fingers down Rune’s face, stroking the beard before lowering it along the man’s neck and chest. He touched the fresh scar on Rune’s sternum.

“I’m sorry,” he muttered upon Rune’s lips.

“What for?”

“That night,” Sehun said with a frown. “If it weren’t for me…”

Rune’s arms tightened around the boy’s small waist. “You might not believe me when I say this. But I would take a million swords to my chest if it were for you.”

“Why would you?” Sehun asked coyly, resting the hand on Rune’s thick, haired chest.

“I think I might have lied to you and myself when I told you I’ve never seen you that way,” he admitted. “ _This_ … way. The day that I wrestled Galondor. I wanted to impress you so bad. I wanted you to have your eyes all on me.”

That made Sehun’s lips twist into an amused smile. “My eyes were all on you.”

Rune pulled him in for another deep, fervent kiss that left him breathless but wanting more. He let Sehun touch him some more. The boy’s hands wandered all over Rune’s face, hair, and body. It was as though the Prince was mesmerized by being able to touch the man all he wanted.

He then pressed the front of his bare body against Rune’s, draping his arms around Rune’s neck as they lay on the ground facing each other. Rune let out a chuckle, holding onto a side of the boy’s torso.

“Just for how long have you been wanting to do this?” he asked the silverhead, whose face looked like blushing blossoms.

“For too long,” the Prince conceded.

“Well,” Rune said and pressed their lips together again. “touch me all you want, then.”

Even as their lips throbbed, and bodies sweated from too much heat, Sehun did not let him go. They only managed to come apart when they were completely out of breath.

“Have you… ever seen her?” Sehun inquired after a while.

Rune blinked. “Who?”

Sehun licked his lips. “Mother. You see the… Dead. Have you… seen her?”

Rune felt a pang in his heart. He shook his head. “I only see those that are condemned to Hell.” He carded his fingers through the boy’s hair. “She must be destined for the Heavens.”

Something furled in the boy’s expression then. “She must be,” he murmured. “I am not going to the Heavens to meet my Maker.”

“You are not in a competition with your mother, Sehun. She was a good woman. She loved you.”

Sehun scowled. “I loved her, too. But not enough. She was a Queen. She had more important responsibilities. I was an asset. And so was my brother. She was never a mother to us. She had always been… Queen Alastríona Raiganiel. The more I thought of that, the more I hated her. And the more I thought of you… having eyes only for her…” he trailed off, eyes almost shut. “I had thought things will be different when I returned. But you still only saw _her_. I do wonder if… she were still alive, would you have… would we have… done this? Would you have even looked in my way?”

Rune realized that he did have an honest answer to that. “Perhaps I would have, My Prince,” he breathed out, pulling Sehun’s waist close.

Sehun’s eyes brimmed with tears. “Am I not just a… copy of her? A substitute?”

Rune scowled then. “You know me better than that, Sehun. I am steadfast. My loyalty never wavers. I am not that cheap to be taking you just because you hold your mother’s resemblance. You might look like her, but you are nothing like her. And that is a good thing because you are brave enough to choose what your heart wants.”

“I’m not,” Sehun whispered and buried his face in Rune’s chest. “I’m really not… brave.”

Rune kissed the top of the boy’s head. “We’ll be brave together.”

* * *

‘Strange’ did not suffice to describe how odd it was to wake up next to the Young Prince of Raenythör after a night of sex.

Rune perked his head to look down at the silver head resting on top of his chest, an arm stretched over Rune’s waist. The boy was still sound asleep while the sun was beginning to brighten the skies outside.

Rune smiled to himself, watching Sehun’s head rise and fall with the chest he slept on. It was the nicest dream Rune had ever had and he never wanted to wake from it. He wished they could just stay this way forever in these Woodlands.

Because as soon as they stepped out of this tent, Rune was destined to be the guardian of the Hell, the Diminisher, and Sehun’s fate would lock him away in the Temples for the rest of his life. And not to mention the brewing war Rune would soon need to face with the Blood Cult and its rebel leader, Daz’gon, whose acquaintance Rune was actually anticipating making. So that he could have the bastard’s head.

However, this was a tranquillity he was not ready to give up. Perhaps even dying this way would not be such a bad idea.

Rune wondered if the only reason he was able to muster the willpower to defeat death and Hergroc was so that he could be here, this very moment and be rewarded for all those years that were bereft of love and family. For all those years he had wholeheartedly believed that he would die a lonely death.

He caressed the sleeping boy’s back and arm with the tip of his callused fingers, gently sweeping the strands of hair aside. And when Sehun stirred, letting out a soft mumble in his sleep, shifting his head on Rune’s chest, his heart skipped a beat.

Then with his arm gripped around Rune’s body, Sehun roused, shoulders stiffening. For a moment, he did not move a muscle, but his arm loosened over Rune’s waist.

“Good morning, Your Majesty,” bade Rune in a mutter, combing the Prince’s hair with his fingers.

With a jolt, the boy sat up hurriedly and sucked in a few deep breaths, staring at the slit of the tent’s opening that allowed some morning light in.

Rune pushed himself up on his elbows and lightly caressed Sehun’s back. He felt Sehun shudder.

“Are you… all right?” he queried, not liking the way the boy’s shoulders were slumped defeatedly.

Without a reply, Sehun frantically searched the tent for his shirt and upon locating it, he hastily pulled it on and started lacing it.

Rune sat up. “Sehun?”

The boy was refusing to even look at him. But when Rune caught a sight of his expression, Sehun looked glum, nervous, and guilty.

“Sehun,” Rune called again as he reached out to touch the boy once more. But the Prince shot up to his feet. Sparing Rune not another glance, he hurtled out of the tent, leaving Rune to gape vacantly with a muddled mind.

Confused, Rune made his way out of the tent to chase after the Prince, who had taken off without a word. What was that supposed to mean?

And he was not sure why his heart was breaking. It was another alien feeling he had yet to encounter until now.

The skies were welcoming the dawn, brightening for the sun to take its place among them. When he checked the Prince’s tent, he found neither Sehun nor his dog.

“Rune?” he heard Raven call his name and turned around to face her with a worried scowl.

“Where is he?” he blurted out.

Raven blinked. “The Princeling? I saw him head for the stream.”

Rune was already starting toward it before he was halted by Raven’s hand that caught his arm. “Can I talk to you for a moment before we are back on the road? In private.”

Stopping, Rune confronted her, his heart clamouring hard in his chest.

Raven released his arm and said, “He is an Idaem. They all are. At the end of the day, you must remember he belongs with the Idaems. And to them, we are their enemies. Whether we follow Daz’gon or not. When the time comes, if they continued to rule this realm, then our fate will be the same as our ancestors’.”

“He is not like them,” Rune argued, almost snarling.

“He is more dangerous than them. He is ambitious. I don’t know what, but he has something to prove. That is the only reason he is here. It isn’t to avenge his mother.”

She was right about that. Rune did not know how she had figured that out, but she was not wrong. Sehun was ambitious, and he did have something prove, something to make of himself. But that did not mean he would betray those he loved. Even for his faith.

And he certainly was not here to avenge his mother. He was here because of Rune. That made him worth it.

“Look, Raven,” Rune said. “I appreciate you helping me in finding who I am and what I’m supposed to be. But you have fulfilled your calling. You have become a friend. And I am glad for that. But I have promises that I made to that boy to keep. So, even if you don’t think he has good in his heart, I am willing to take my chances. I was once cowardly enough not to pursue my love. I will not be a coward again just because some Gods said we can’t love each other. And if I’m the Diminisher, I have every reason not to listen to what the Gods say.

He turned around and marched towards the river.

The horses were up and about, drinking from the stream, grazing the grass that grew ashore. The dog was leaping from side to side, trying to catch a fluttering butterfly with its teeth. Rune’s eyes turned to the pile of crumpled clothes on the ground before they darted to Sehun, who remained unmoving in the water, back turned to Rune. He seemed to be lost in his thoughts.

Rune stepped out of his pants and climbed into the bitter, cold water. As he swam closer to Sehun, the latter turned around, eyes red and puffy palpably from crying.

Rune halted in his tracks to gawk at the boy’s face with puzzlement.

“No amount of water can wash this filth away from my body, soul, heart, and mind,” Sehun whispered, lifting his hands to stare down at his palms, as though he were holding dirt in them.

He could not be serious… Rune wordlessly stared at the boy for a long while before he treaded forward and wrapped his hands around Sehun’s wrists.

“Filth?” he asked. “Even after everything that… happened last night, you think of me as filth?”

Sehun looked up at him with those big, glistening eyes. “No,” he let out. “It’s not you. Me. I’m the… filth. For years, I have been running away from the realization. I wanted to be a priest so that I could always convince myself that I’m pure. But now… Now I—”

Rune shut him up with an impulsive kiss. Sehun struggled for a moment, hands shoving at Rune’s chest to push him away. But as Rune wound an arm around his waist to pull him even closer, the Prince gave himself up once again, melting into the kiss. His fighting hands softened around Rune’s shoulders.

When they broke apart, Rune held the small of Sehun’s back underwater with one hand while the other cupped the Prince’s face. “There is nothing wrong with this or you,” he told the boy. “You cannot choose whom your heart wants.”

Sehun shook his head, pulling away from Rune. “I had taken an oath. And I broke it.” He pushed past Rune and clambered ashore. Rune did not glance back as the boy clothed himself.

He only turned around when he was certain Sehun was no longer there. He found Prymos and Babypaw staring at him from where they stood, both wearing a peculiar expression.

* * *

Sehun did not speak to him again for the rest of the day as the rode southwards, following the roads through the Woodlands.

Every moment that passed without the boy talking to him, Rune felt increasingly agitated. Even though he understood that Sehun just needed the time to process the wonderful thing that had happened between them and to come to terms with the fact that he was now tainted, his faith besmirched, a big price to pay to be with the man he loved, Rune worried that the boy might never talk to him again.

“You are sure your brother will listen to you, right?” Raven asked.

Sehun seemed too distracted to hear her.

“Princeling,” she called, and the boy finally turned his tired gaze to her. “What if your brother doesn’t show?”

Sehun gripped the reins of his horse tighter. “He will.”

The evening soon fell. Rune could already feel the heat of the city heighten with every step they advanced.

“Look,” Raven gasped all of a sudden, reining her horse to a standstill. Rune followed her direction and gazed at the palls of fire smoke that wafted in the air from the trees, a faint luminance of fire. When he tried to listen, he heard the murmurs of men talking.

“It’s an encampment,” Rune pointed out.

“Could it be?” Raven let out, grinning.

“Only one way to find out.” He glanced at the Young Prince, who was wearing a solemn look on his face.

Rune drew the cowl over his head and the mask over his face. Then he led Prymos away from the road and into the forest, following the trail of firewood smoke.

They halted upon Rune’s order when he spied the Raiganiel banners, standing tall and proud amid the trees, tents and the two big marquees.

Guards and horses roamed the coppice. Some of the men were still pitching the tents while others had gathered around pot of pottage that was bubbling over a bonfire. There were only a portion of the King’s guard present. Probably because Garan had not wanted to attraction too much attention.

Rune sighted the tent of the King.

“He’s here,” he muttered.

As he kicked Prymos to advance, some of the heads turned in his way.

The guards charged at once, horns were sounded, swords were drawn. The entire encampment of soldiers gathered around Rune.

Rune dismounted the horse and held his hands up. “I am here to surrender,” he exclaimed to the guards, pulling the cowl and the mask down. “Take me to His Grace.”

“How about we take your head to His Grace?!” one of the guards yapped and lunged forward with his sword.

“Enough!” He was immediately interjected by the Young Prince, who climbed down the horse and stepped forward, chest pushed out, head held high, fists clenched at his sides.

“Your Majesty,” the guard gasped and bowed at once. “You are alive. We thought something terrible would have befallen you. This bastard will pay for his deeds!”

“I said enough!” Sehun spat, putting himself between the guards and Rune. “I had asked my brother to meet us here. This man is no murderer. He had not taken me against my will either. You will put your swords down this very instant.”

“But the King has given us his orders to have him arrested or killed on sight, My Prince.”

“And I am telling you the King cannot have a convict killed without a trial when he holds evidence for his innocence.”

“But Your Grace—”

“Must I repeat myself twice every single time, soldier?” Sehun growled.

The guards sheathed their swords without another protest. “Where have you been, Your Grace?” asked the guard. Rune recognized him from the garrison, but he could not recall a name. He, however, did recognize the uniform the guard was donning. He was the Captain of the King’s Guard.

“I wish to see my brother forthwith,” Sehun ordered as he started walking. The guards kept a close eye on Rune and Raven, who followed after the Young Prince. Some of them were distracted by the massive dog that strutted alongside their Young Prince.

“He is in his tent, Your Majesty,” said the Captain. “He will be very delighted to see you and to know that you are all right.”

Sehun did not stop until he had reached the King’s tent. As he burst into it, Rune was obstructed by the Captain and the guards.

“Let him through,” Sehun commanded.

With a tight scowl, the Captain stepped aside and allowed Rune to enter the tent, but he did not give Raven the access. “You stay out here,” he spat at her, eyeing the black sabre hanging to her hip.

Rune looked back at Raven and tacitly told her to stand her ground. She voiced no objection.

“Brother!” Garan called, drawing his breath in as he rose from the desk in an elation and shock. Vulred gawked at the Young Prince and Rune from the corner of the tent before he moved forward, dragging jaw on the ground.

“Garan,” Sehun let out as his brother pounced onto him, drawing him into a vicious embrace. Rune stood still, hands tied at his back.

“I almost had a heart attack when I received your missive yesterday,” Garan rasped and pulled back to get a good look at Sehun’s face. “You had me worried sick. I had guards searching for you all over Raenythör!”

A small smile appeared on Sehun’s lips. “I am fine. Very tired, but fine.”

Garan mustered his little brother from head to toe. “You do not look very fine to me. You could definitely use some food and soap.”

“I definitely could,” Sehun said. The King’s eyes then darted over Sehun’s shoulders and landed on Rune. Without wasting another second, Garan drew his sword. “No, Brother.” Sehun stopped him, holding him back. “He is innocent.”

“I will kill him!”

“No, please. Hear me out,” Sehun implored. “He had not abducted me. It was my orchestration to save him from his execution, which would have been completely wrong.”

Garan paused to glower at his brother. “This son of a bitch murdered our mother in cold blood, Sehun! And you’re telling me you _helped_ him escape?!”

Sehun frowned. “You would have wrongfully sentenced him to death, Garan,” he said. “We have proof now. I know that he hadn’t killed our mother. In fact, he was nowhere near her that night.”

“What are you blabbering about? His scimitar was the weapon used to kill her.”

“But he was not the one who had wielded it that night.” He pressed his hands to Garan’s chest to calm the man down. “Listen to me, Brother. This is more than just an assassination. You might not be safe. Please, tell me you kept our rendezvous a secret. Tell me you told no one. Especially Rowana.”

Garan blinked blankly. “I did not. But I am very confused right now, Sehun.”

“I swear upon… Idaemïr,” Sehun croaked out. “That Rune did not murder our mother. I know who did and I have seen things with my own eyes.”

Sighing heavily, Garan took a step back. “You are telling me this bastard was not the one who did it? Then who was it?”

“Someone who would like our faith to fall,” said Sehun.

Vulred stepped forward then. “Your Grace,” he said. “What blasphemous thing do you speak of?”

“It is the truth,” Sehun said level-headedly. “There are things in this world that we mortal beings have yet to encounter.”

Garan looked suspicious. “Brother, you sound frazzled. Perhaps some rest would help you. Let us go home.”

“Not yet. You cannot have him arrested,” Sehun then said assertively. “Not until you hear us out. He hasn’t harmed me, has he? He could have if he wanted to. You are a better King than that. You cannot sentence him to death when I vouch for his innocence.”

Garan glared at Rune. Then he gave a curt nod along with a defeated sigh. “Very well. I am taking your word for it, Sehun. But if you are wrong, I wouldn’t hesitate to punish him _and_ you for conniving with a criminal.”

Sehun bowed his head.

“With all due respect, Your Highness,” Vulred muttered to Garan. “We cannot simply allow a murderer to walk free right under our noses.”

“We will hear them out,” Garan said sternly. “and listen to their reasonings.”

“Alone,” Sehun said. “Not in a trial. I need to speak with you as a brother first.”

“Very well,” Garan agreed.

“What did he say?” Raven asked when Rune exited the tent before Sehun. And as the Young Prince walked out, he was escorted to another tent by the guards, who stayed alert at all times. The dog went after Sehun.

“He agreed to listen,” Rune said in hushed tones as the other guards continued to loom around him. “But I am starting to think he might not believe us until he sees it himself. All we have are theories.”

“And the Diminisher.”

“That might not help us plead our case.” He scrubbed his beard. “The only person who can convince Garan is Sehun.”

“Then let us hope he is as good as he is said to be at being smart.”

“We’re still missing something,” Rune mused confusedly. “If Daz’gon’s aim is to fall the Idaem Faith, he should be coming for Garan, too. And with Rowana at Garan’s side, she should have succeeded long ago.”

He glanced at Vulred when the old scholar sauntered out of the tent. “Lord Vanguard,” he called.

Rune bowed his head. “Counsel Vulred.”

“May I… have a word with you in private?” he asked, much to Rune’s surprise.

Leaving Raven’s side, Rune followed Vulred. “I thought you believed I was the murderer.”

“I do,” Vulred said. “I believe in the evidences we found.” He sighed. “But there has been something else going on since your absence.”

Rune arched an eyebrow.

“The Temples are being closed soon. Queen Rowana is overseeing the shutdown of the Temples.”

“What?” Rune scowled. “The King couldn’t possibly allow that.”

“King Garan has always been very lenient when it comes to his beautiful bride.” The Counsel stopped and faced Rune with a grave look. “What the Young Prince said in there about someone who’d like our faith to fall… Is it true?”

Rune was not sure how much he could confide in the old Counsel. “You called me a murderer and advocated my execution, Counsel. I have nothing to confide in you.”

The scholar nodded. “Reasonable.”

They were promptly diverted by the sound of the hooves of marching horses.

“What is…” Vulred began to let out as a herd of mounted men emerged from the trees.

Rune’s mouth immediately stretched into a wide grin as he hurried toward them. The King’s guards, outnumbered and bewildered, took their position to defend the encampment.

“Now what?!” Rune heard the Captain roar as he raced through the guards with his sword drawn.

“Oh, relax, sweetheart” a man, almost as tall and burly as Rune scoffed from where he sat on the horse. “Put that needle away.”

Rune recognized the soldier from one of the battles they had fought together. Calro, the Meat Mincer. He was one of the most terrifying soldiers Rune had ever had the pleasure of meeting. He’d recognize that bald head and thick red beard anywhere.

“We’re not here to mug your precious pearls and purses,” said another. Rune could laugh right now where he spotted Bullrod, the Bull among the herd of retired soldiers. The silver ring that hung from his nose was the very thing that gave him that nickname.

“This is the King’s encampment! You are not welcome here!” said the Captain.

“We are here to see the King,” Rune picked out Zelos’ voice, and started jostling past the guards.

“Zelos,” he gasped once he had managed to make it to the front. Zelos jumped off his horse with a smirk.

“So,” he said, beckoning at the men he had brought with him.

Bullrod and Calro dismounted and approached Rune. “Rune Degenhard, the Vanguard,” said Bullrod with a monstrous smile as he clapped hands with Rune. “It has been a while.”

“Ages,” Calro said and pulled Rune into half a hug. “Never believed a word they said about you killing the Queen,” he spat like an animal.

The other men climbed off their horses and gathered around him, too. There were at least fifty of them. Rune recognized most of the soldiers he had fought alongside.

“You are not allowed to—” the Captain of the King’s Guard began to say but he was quieted by the man with the halberd. Gilvonor, the Butcher.

“You quit your yappin’ right this instant or I pluck your pretty eyes out,” warned Gilvonor.

“Gilvonor,” Rune called and shook hands with the man. These were soldiers. Not mere palace guards. They had seen the realest horrors there were to be seen.

“Is the Young Prince safe?” asked Bullrod.

“He is,” said Rune. “I did not actually take him by force.”

“No,” Gilvonor said. “Not a soldier like you, Degenhard.”

Rune smiled and leaned to Zelos. “You did a good job.”

Zelos exhaled heavily. “They wanted to pop my head open like a peanut, but I reminded them of how you were one of them. A total shot in the dark that worked in our favour.”

“Let’s pitch here!” Calro thundered to the rest of the men.

“No! You cannot!” the Captain said.

“Watch us do it anyway, little birdie,” Calro snorted in the Captain’s face.

* * *

“The Blood Cult,” Bullrod echoed after Rune. “I have heard of them, but I never believed it was this serious.”

“It is worse,” Rune said from where he sat in one of the large tents they had pitched for themselves, a little away from the King’s encampment. “There is this guy Daz’gon who calls himself the new God of the Blood Faith. He has a small group of cursed assassins, and they were the ones who killed the Queen.”

“This sounds like a war between the religions,” pointed out Calro. “Pathetic for men like us. We do not care about what faith they’re from when we’re chopping their heads off.”

Rune smirked. “That’s not all. If the Blood Cult rises, Daz’gon will turn a lot of us into his little pets. The land of Raenythör is blessed by Idaemïr, who had graced the Raiganiels. Without them ruling this realm, it will all be utter chaos. Idaemïr will hold the peace of this realm for as long as He is the one true God of this realm.” It was what Alastríona had always told him.

“So, how do we take out this Daz’gon?” asked Gilvonor.

“I haven’t met him yet.” Rune rubbed his forehead. “But I am waiting for his next move.”

“If this guy is God, how are we going to defeat him?” Calro said.

Raven sat in silence by Rune’s side. She appeared to be a little unnerved, surrounded by these Faithless men.

“Why hasn’t he made any move?” Bullrod asked.

Rune licked his lips. “I… don’t know. He should have but… he hasn’t. Unless… he’s already achieved what he wanted.”

“That does not explain why he still sent his Deathless to kill you.”

Rune thought about it for a moment. “Unless it wasn’t to kill me,” he then breathed out.

One of the retired soldiers barged into the tent. “Degenhard, the King’s guards are looking for you. Says the Young Prince has summoned you.”

Rune stood up and wandered out of the tent to follow the guards back to the King’s encampment. He was ushered to a tent and was told to enter.

He found the Young Prince standing by a bed, fixing the laces on the cuffs of his overcoat. After weeks of seeing in the boy in modest clothing, beholding him in all this princely finery again took Rune’s breath away.

But apart from all that, the long, flowing pearlescent hair was gone.

Sehun turned around, his hair now cut short to the nape of his neck. Rune’s jaw fell slack.

“Why?” was the first thing he had thought to ask. He looked too different without his long, beautiful hair that Rune thoroughly enjoyed running his fingers through.

The boy lowered his gaze momentarily. “I am not who I used to be,” he then muttered at length.

Rune closed the distance between them and cupped Sehun’s face in his hands to force the boy to meet his eyes. “You always are just you,” Rune whispered. “And I see you for who you are. And I love every bit of that.”

“This is… wrong,” Sehun choked, gently pressing his hands on Rune’s chest. “I have thought about it all day. It is wrong. But I can’t… stop myself from wanting more.”

“Then don’t,” said Rune before smashing their lips together. Sehun’s fingers fisted around Rune’s shirt by the chest as he rose to the tip of his toes to kiss Rune back desperately.

The boy looked jaded when Rune withdrew.

“You said it yourself. Your faith is unwavering. And just because you choose me, it does not mean your God will hate you,” Rune told him. “But… this isn’t something you will have to deal with for long, Sehun. When it is all over, I will have to leave you.”

“Stop,” Sehun begged in a raspy breath. “Stop saying that.”

A guard announced his presence before entering the tent. Sehun pulled away from Rune at once. “The King is requesting your company, Your Grace,” he said.

Sehun nodded his head shakily. “Tell him I’ll be there.” He then straightened the lapels of his overcoat before started out of the tent. Rune took a moment to gather his composure before he trod out after the Young Prince.

In the King’s tent, Garan was pacing restlessly, a hand on the hilt of his sword. “Ah, Sehun.” He sat down at the desk. “I am ready to listen to your reasonings.”

Sehun exchanged a glance with Rune once before he began. “The Blood Cult,” he said. Garan arched an eyebrow.

“The Blood Cult?”

“Yes. You must have heard of Daz’gon. It is the one name all the followers of the Blood Cult hail. It really is simple. He wants to eradicate the Idaem Faith. And us Raiganiels are the keepers of this faith and the graces Idaemïr has given to this once dead land. He started with our mother. She was killed by his assassins. They call themselves the Deathless. They wield black magic and are cursed. Daz’gon is a Nekrón, who faced the Maker and insulted Him, fought Him to return to the living. Now, he calls himself the God of the Blood Cult. He will not stop until all of the Idaems are either converted or dead.”

Garan was stiff with silence.

“Brother,” Sehun said. “I know this might sound crazy, but I am telling you the truth. I have seen these Deathless with my own eyes. And I have seen much more than you could imagine. Rune has no intent even if he were the one who killed our mother.”

Garan stood up. “You are saying this… this made-up God of a deranged religious sect is what murdered our mother?”

“Yes. And… Rowana was also involved in it.”

For a moment, all that Garan did was gawk at Sehun with disbelief. He then broke into a laughter. “Sehun, if you could hear yourself.”

“She framed Rune.”

“And he told you that? You _believed_ it? I don’t know what is funnier. God, Sehun, you are an Idaem priest. How could you believe in such nonsense? Or were you taught in Nabooru to be so gullible?”

“I am saying this so that you can be safe, Garan. With her at your side, you could be in danger.”

Garan’s face then turned grave. “What proof do you have for these ridiculous accusations.”

“We… do not have physical proof. But you have to believe me.”

“Believe the boy who conspired with a murderer and fooled me?” Garan spat.

Sehun’s face wilted.

Rune stepped forward then. “Garan—”

“I am your King, Nekrón,” Garan roared. “You will address me accordingly.”

Rune gripped his jaw. “Your Grace… You hadn’t given me a chance to defend myself. I do not care about my death sentence. But I care for this kingdom and I care for your safety. The Queen was killed in cold blood. Her death should not go unanswered. And for all those reasons, I will fight to protect you, Your Highness.”

“You?” Garan said with a cocked brow. “Let’s say that all of this is true. That my mother’s assassination was indeed plotted by terroristic zealots with magical powers. How do you intend to stop them?”

Rune looked at Sehun and licked his lips. “I just need you to be careful for now. Rowana was in my quarters the night of the Queen’s assassination. She was the one who took my scimitar and disappeared. She was a Deathless. And she told me that Daz’gon will rise. She is doing his bidding.”

“She was with me the entire night,” Garan said offhandedly. “Whatever story you’ve cooked up, it lacks integrity. It certainly isn’t enough to save your neck even with a trial.”

“Brother—” Sehun started to oppose.

“Enough, Sehun. You will go back to the palace and we will talk of your punishment for aiding a criminal later.”

“Garan—”

“Guards!” Garan yapped commandingly. As they surged into the tent, he ordered them to escort Sehun back to Akrowyth right this instant. And as for Rune, he was to be arrested.

“No!” Sehun cried as the guards started to take him away. Rune frantically tried to think of a way to get out of this.

“Garan, please. You must believe us. Rowana is a Deathless!” he grunted at the King, who simply shook his head disappointedly as the guards seized hold of Rune’s arms. Garan turned around, rubbing his neck, and that was when Rune noticed the gold cord around his neck.

Against the embroideries, Rune had overlooked the Amulet of Idaemïr that was resting against Garan’s chest.

For a moment, nothing made sense to him, and the world began to cave around him.

“The amulet,” Rune let out, refusing to cooperate with the guards that were trying to haul him out of the tent.

“Wait,” Sehun growled at the guards.

Garan faced Rune. “What?”

“The amulet,” Rune said again, eyes narrowed on the dull ruby that had always glimmered when it was worn by Alastríona and all her predecessors.

“What about it?”

Rune shook his head. “The amulet was missing the night the Queen was killed. She was not wearing it. And she had never taken it off.”

That instant, only silence curled around them.

Sehun’s complexion paled like a ghost’s as he gaped at his brother.

Blood pounded in Rune’s head. “You were… Rowana’s only alibi. You vouched for her,” Rune exhaled, heart hammering against his chest. “The ruby in the amulet has gone dull.”

Sehun spoke up then. “Only a Raiganiel true to the Idaem Faith can wield the powers of the amulet,” he spat as his eyes reddened with ferocity and tears. “You,” he cried then, gasping. “You did it!”

Garan tried to appear smug, although his eyes were quivering. “You have let insanity consume you, Brother,” he said to Sehun. “Take him away.”

“No! No!” Sehun screamed as he was dragged away.

When Rune had finally managed to come out of his trance, he breathlessly asked, “Why? Why would you…”

Garan eyed the guards then. “Leave us for a moment,” he said, and the guards released Rune. “Rune Degenhard. It is nothing personal. I have nothing against you. But the murder had to come with a finality that would not raise any questions, and you seemed like the perfect candidate to do the job.” He leaned in and whispered into Rune’s ear, “Daz’gon must rise.”

Rune stared at him as he pulled back. It couldn’t be. This couldn’t be.

“My mother loved no one but her God and her people,” he spat. “So, I never loved her. When I met Rowana, she opened a whole new world to me. The Blood Cult, the Blood Faith, and Daz’gon who promised his followers powers that no mortal men could even dream of. I converted. And for as long as my mother lived, I knew the Idaem Faith would continue to thrive. And the hag was not dying anytime soon. And with _you_ around, I knew you’d figure things out sooner or later. The people will follow the faith of their King. And I too will soon become a Deathless. King for eternity. I will be the first Raiganiel to break the people’s faith and show them the better path.”

“That’s why you’re… shutting down the Temples.”

Garan smiled. “You take away the opportunity for the people to worship an unjust, weak God, they will eventually turn to the one true God, who’d save them all. My brother was never meant to be a part of this. But he is a smart one. I did not expect him to go this far to seek the truth. But collateral damages do happen.”

Rune snarled and lunged at the bastard, a hand flinging up to grip Garan by the neck.

“Guards!” Garan cawed as he clung onto Rune’s wrist.

“I will kill you. And I will kill your _one true God_!” As the guards hauled him away from Garan, Rune secured his hand around the Amulet of Idaemïr and tore it from Garan’s neck.

His elbow then plunged into a guard’s face first before he turned around and kneed another in the guts.

Sehun. Sehun…

Rune bolted out of the tent.

“Guards! Guards! Don’t let him get away!” Garan screeched.

Rune looked around for a horse in a frenzy before he whistled to summon Prymos. Retrieving a wooden post from the ground, he swung at a guard’s head before he raced towards the carriage that barrelled down the road.

“Fuck,” he cursed in a gasp, realizing there was no way he could catch up to the carriage on foot.

“Rune!” he heard Zelos bellow in the commotion as he planted a fist in another guard’s skull.

“Get out of here!” Rune cried at him and Bullrod and the others.

“Looks like our boy needs our help,” said Gilvonor, who picked up his halberd and chased the guards as the rest of the retired soldiers charged.

Rune then spotted Prymos and Vrangrord darting towards him like arrowheads. He broke into a sprint and without stopping, he grabbed onto the reins and jumped onto the stallion. Heeling the horse and whipping the reins, Rune careened after the carriage. The dog tore like the wind, almost keeping up with the horse’s speed with a vicious snarl, baring its fangs.

He felt the Death Mark sting. As soon as he caught sight of the carriage, his attention turned to the explosion of black in the middle of the road before a Deathless materialized.

Rune drew the battle-axe from the saddlebags then, and as it lit up like the magma of Hell’s ground, he felt his own eyes and veins blaze up in flames. Prymos neighed under him, the stallion’s nostrils flaring with hellfire as its black eyes turned to two burning pebbles of coal.

Swinging the battle-axe, Rune reined Prymos to go faster. The Deathless brandished its black sabre and aimed for the horse before Rune beheaded the assassin, leaving it to go up in dust.

When Prymos caught up to the carriage, Rune hurled the battle-axe in the driver’s way. It struck the guard and beheaded him with a single strike before the carriage lost control and the horses swerved.

As the carriage tipped over and upended on a side of the road, Rune reined Prymos to a stop and unhorsed him. Picking up the battle-axe on his way, he gave it a few turns, watching a handful of guards stumble their way out of the carriage. Some were bleeding.

They stopped to stare in wonder and horror at Rune, who strode over, ready to take every one of their lives. Shaking and panting, the guards drew their weapons.

Before Rune could even reach them, Vrangrord pounced on them, sinking his fangs into their necks, clawing at their faces like a savage wolf. Rune finished off the rest of them and dropped the battle-axe to the ground.

Tearing the carriage’s doors apart, he scooped Sehun out of there. The boy lay limp in his arms, unconscious, but there were no signs of injuries. Rune felt his body cool down as the veins in his body paled back to their usual colour. Holding the boy to his chest, he walked back to Prymos.

* * *

When he returned to the encampment, he learned that the King and the rest of the guards had fled. Bullrod, Calro, Gilvonor and the others helped Rune secure the perimeter while he bore Sehun into a tent to lay him down on a bed.

How could he have not seen it coming? Rune brushed the boy’s now short hair from his eyes and stroked a side of Sehun’s face with the back of his fingers.

“Is he all right?” Zelos asked, peering into the tent. Rune rose to his feet and faced the man. “What is going on, Rune?”

“Garan,” Rune let out. “He was also behind the Queen’s murder. He is a follower of Daz’gon.”

Zelos’ jaw dropped. “You… are serious…”

Rune knelt back down on the side of the pallet on the ground and frowned at Sehun. “He is our only hope now,” he breathed out. Fishing the amulet out of his pocket, he stared at it in his palm for a long moment.

“Is that the—”

“Garan has to be dethroned,” Rune spat through his teeth. “He will not break the people’s faith and give way for Daz’gon’s rising. Only a true Idaem Raiganiel can rule this kingdom.”

“Rune… That would mean…”

“War,” Rune muttered. “Sehun would have to overthrow him.”

“How? We don’t have an army.”

Rune closed his eyes. “I do.”

* * *

“We go against the King, we perish,” said Raven once Rune was done telling them of Garan’s part to play in everything. The night was nowhere near its end. They sat around the fire and digested the brutal truth about their new King.

“Not really,” said Bullrod. “The Young Prince has the right to fight for the throne. If he sits in it, nobody can question that. He has the birthright.”

“But Garan _is_ the King. Usurping his reign would mean going head against head with him in war. Is our Young Prince prepared for that? He has a few retired soldiers standing against thousands of troops and millions of weapons,” said another one of the retired soldiers, scratching his head.

 “The army isn’t going to be a problem,” Rune said. “Leave that to me. I have a plan for that.” He glanced at the tent he had left Sehun sleeping in with Zelos and the dog watching over him. “Besides, who do you think the people would want to sit in that throne? A murderer who killed his own mother, the Queen and has shifted faiths? Or an intelligent, well-read Prince who’s devoted his entire life to learning the ways of his faith and who genuinely cares about the well-being of his people?”

The men nodded their heads thoughtfully. “Rune,” Raven called, frowning. “Are you sure about? You have a war to fight with Daz’gon. And you want Sehun to fight a war with his brother?”

Before Rune could reply, his attention turned to Zelos, who wandered out of the tent and approached him. “He’s awake, Rune,” he said.

Rune shot up at once. “We will discuss more at dawn,” he told the others. “Raven, keep a weather eye out. I encountered a Deathless earlier. It was definitely looking out for Garan.”

Raven nodded and rose to her full height.

“The rest of you, if you wish to fight by my side to see the rightful Raiganiel ascend the throne, then you have my everlasting gratitude and I will see you here first thing tomorrow morning and we will plan the usurpation of Garan’s reign. But if you do not want to get involved any further, you are allowed to go home.”

Gilvonor stood up. “This _is_ our home, Vanguard. And we will fight for the right King. If Garan was the one who killed the fair Queen, then I will fight alongside you to bring him down.”

Rune bowed his head in respect. Calro, Bullrod, and the others rose from their seats as well. “Aye, we will,” spat Calro, lifting his sword and gave a cacophonous battle cry. The rest joined him.

 

 

* * *

 

# C H A P T E R   T E N

The dog lifted its head from where it was resting at the foot of the pallet, near Sehun’s legs, when Rune ambled into the tent. He pulled the tent close before wandering to the side of the pallet. Only the dim, yellow light from the bonfire outside allowed him to see the boy’s face.

“Sehun,” Rune exhaled, falling to his knees.

The boy was quietly crying into the pallet. “He did it…” he mewled out weakly. “He killed her… He… Her own… son. For… his faith.”

“You are not like him,” Rune said and lightly touched the boy’s face, cupping a side of it to wipe the tears. “He believes in the wrong faith. He is blinded by the powers Daz’gon promises his followers.”

“My mother did not deserve that,” he whimpered. When he finally sat up, he did not look at Rune’s eyes. “He cannot be rewarded for all the bad deeds he has done.”

“I know,” Rune whispered. “And he will not.”

He took the Amulet of Idaemïr and pressed it into Sehun’s hands. The Prince stared at it, blinking and snivelling. And slowly, the ruby came to live, glimmering and flickering like it used to when Alastríona used to wield it.

“Your faith remains true, Sehun,” Rune reassured him. “You are a Raiganiel. And an Idaem. You must fight your brother for the crown. It is rightfully yours now.”

Sehun continued to stare at the amulet. “I never… dreamed even once that… this would come to me.”

Rune leaned in and pressed their foreheads together. “You deserved it. You are worthy of it. Your God is still with you.”

Drawing in a trembling breath, Sehun set the amulet aside and finally looked at Rune’s eyes. “You don’t have to guard me. You must have a lot to prepare.”

“I am not leaving you unguarded even for a moment.”

Sehun’s eyes turned sad once again. “But you will when you take your place as the Diminisher.”

“Sehun…”

“I do not want to be King, Rune,” the boy sobbed then, much to Rune’s surprise. “I never coveted any of it. I want you. I’ve always only wanted _you_.”

The confession caught Rune completely off-guard. It was earnest and sorrowful.

“I hate my family,” Sehun wept. “I hated my mother. And my brother turned out to be a murderous fiend. I don’t even remember what my father was like. Tainted or not, you are… you are the only one who loves me for who I am.”

Rune knelt up and clasped his hands to the sides of the boy’s head. Their gazes locked, he said, “And that will never change.” It was a promise. “Whether I’m in Hell or on ground. But you are strong. You are the strongest person I have ever met. No one as young as you could achieve everything that you have. And you will be a great King. You owe it to this realm to carry on your family legacy.” His own eyes stung with tears as he tilted his head to press a kiss to Sehun’s lips. “I am not going to forget you this time.”

Sehun’s hands flew up to grab onto Rune’s shirt before he rammed his mouth against Rune’s for an aggressive kiss. “Rune,” the Prince rasped, tongue upon tongue. Rune crawled forward and propelled Sehun down to lie on his back.

The dog hurried out of the tent but didn’t get too far as it sat down to guard the tent.

“He’s a smart dog,” Rune mumbled, smirking against Sehun’s mouth.

Groaning, Sehun’s hands tugged at the laces of Rune’s shirt. Rune slipped a hand under the boy’s head and wound his fingers around the shorter strands. It was strange, but it wasn’t bad. He would get used to it, he supposed. Besides, Sehun was beautiful either way.

“Get out of these damned clothes,” Sehun grated, fingernails clawing at Rune’s chest in an attempt to undo the laces.

Rune caught the boy’s wrists and pinned them to the pallet. “Promise you won’t hate me or yourself in the morning,” he breathed as he crashed his lips to Sehun’s neck to fill it with searing kisses that had Sehun squirming and moaning.

“Rune…”

“Promise me what we do tonight will be as beautiful to you as it will to me,” Rune panted, dragging his tongue along the side of the neck while Sehun coiled to free his arms. Rune’s grip only tightened.

“I promise,” he gasped. “I promise. Please, please. I need you… to hold me.”

As soon as Rune released his wrists, Sehun held onto Rune’s head to pull it up so that he could kiss the man hard, whimpering at the beard that scraped his cheeks. Rune let him have at it for a moment, and Sehun was merciless. He sank his teeth into Rune’s lips a few times to bite them while his fingers pulled at Rune’s hair.

“Sehun,” Rune growled when the boy bit into his lip again. Loosely wrapping his hand around Sehun’s jaw, Rune slammed him back against the pallet.

“Just fuck me already,” the Prince snapped with tears in his eyes glinting in the dark. The desperation and despair in his demand sounded as though he were being tormented by every stalled moment.

“I will,” Rune muttered. “But I want to make you feel good first. I want you to enjoy this.” He bowed his head to kiss the boy’s neck while a hand promptly tugged at the laces of Sehun’s overcoat. Sehun relaxed then, his grip loosening around Rune’s hair.

Falling limp against the pallet, he watched Rune kneel up on either side of him and pull his shirt off. He then brought his hands to touch Rune’s abdomen, fingers eventually trailing along the hairs past Rune’s navel. The boy licked his lips, possibly reminiscing the taste of Rune in his mouth.

He sat up and kissed the cleft of Rune’s chest, lips brushing the jagged scar there, before he drew his lips all the way down to the wake of hairs that led to Rune’s cock. He then raised his head to look up at Rune, as though he were seeking the man’s approval. Rune simply combed his fingers through Sehun’s hair and lightly held the back of the boy’s head.

With strenuous breaths, Sehun started unlacing Rune’s pants. “Fuck,” Rune hissed, throwing his head back as Sehun fisted a hand around his cock and brushed his lips to the tip. He was a quick learner, Rune had to give him that.

Sehun passed his tongue over the slit a few times, and it inflamed every part of Rune’s body. He looked down at the boy again and leered at the lips that were wrapped tightly around the cockhead. With a hand folded around the base of the swiftly hardening shaft, Sehun’s mouth swallowed Rune. He pulled back before sinking back in.

“God… Ah…” Rune panted, guiding the boy with the hand on his head. “Just like that…”

Sehun sucked him, slow and tentatively at first. But with Rune’s encouragements, he picked up the pace. His spit and the warmth of his mouth bathed the pulsating erection.

In due course, Rune’s fingers pulled taut around Sehun’s hair to hold him in place as he began to thrust into the boy’s mouth. Sehun retched and coughed as the cockhead slammed against the back of his throat.

Pulling out, Rune drew Sehun’s face up to kiss his hot, wet mouth once before he pinned Sehun back against the pallet.

He ripped Sehun’s overcoat open and tore every article of clothing away from the boy’s body without dawdling about. He caught Sehun’s lips in between for a few kisses.

Now completely bared before Rune, Sehun flushed red and looked away. Rune thought he might just die from heavenliness that was spread out beneath him.

“You are so beautiful,” he susurrated softly, bending low to kiss the boy on his cheek. Slipping a hand under Sehun, Rune hooked an arm around Sehun’s body as he descended his own upon it. Bodies pressed together, they kissed tenderly, inhaling sharp, heavy breaths. Rune then moved to Sehun’s neck once more, trailing his kisses down to the boy’s collarbones and then chest.

A moan escaped Sehun’s lips when Rune sucked on his nipples, flicking his tongue around them as they hardened. Sehun’s back arched off the pallet when Rune’s beard grazed his belly, his lips gently kissing his navel.

Sliding down between Sehun’s legs, Rune stroked the sides of his thighs and brushed his lips along Sehun’s inner thighs, basking in the velvetiness of his skin there. Sehun shivered, his throat making wonderful noises as Rune kissed the skin of his crotch where his legs met his torso, avoiding the part where he wanted to be touched the most.

“Turn around,” Rune then enjoined, still peppering the boy’s thighs with kisses.

Sehun, wrecked and sweating, stared at him for a beat, lips parted and panting. Then he turned to lie on his stomach and to hide his face into the pallet.

“Rune…” he puled meekly while Rune placed a kiss on his shoulder blade before he planted another on the protruding tailbone.

He then paused to relish the view of the Prince’s naked body. As Rune drew a hand over a side of his ass, Sehun whimpered into the pallet. He held onto the boy’s hips and pulled him up to kneel on all fours.

Sucking on a thumb, Rune smeared the digit with some spit before running down the cleft of Sehun’s ass. Sehun gasped as Rune thumbed the puckered rim of muscles. Rune’s own breathing shallowed, and he took hold of his cock in one hand while the other stroked the opening.

He gave the thumb another lick before pressing it between the ass cheeks again, rubbing the pink, tight orifice. Sehun writhed and bit onto the thin sheet that was covering the pallet.

Rune dipped his head and kissed the tailbone once more before he skidded his tongue past it. Sehun cried into the pallet when Rune’s mouth pressed into his ass, tongue teasing the opening. Then the boy went completely silent as the tip of Rune’s tongue prodded into the tightness, breaching a part of his body. An eventual moan broke from the boy’s throat when Rune pulled back to spit on the pink muscle. He licked it again, rendering Sehun into a sobbing mess.

“Do you want me to keep going?” Rune asked, kissing the ass cheeks.

Sehun responded with his heavy breathing and a helpless moan. Rune bowed his head once more and ate him out, slowly, thoroughly. His beard left the ass cheeks red and throbbing as he sucked hard on the taut opening that clenched harder every time he ran his tongue up against it.

One of Sehun’s hands reached back to grip onto Rune’s hair. “Harder,” Sehun mewled out and then quickly sealed his lips, as though he had blurted something sacrilegious. Rune smirked lightly as he sucked on the orifice, tonguing the opening for as far as the tip would go. The noises the Prince made were truly impious, and they revved Rune up.

He slathered the opening with his saliva and withdrew to rub his fingers all over the ass cleft. Retrieving his fingers to suck on them, Rune slid one of them in. He looked up at Sehun to make sure he was all right.

Sehun clapped a hand over his mouth to stifle a cry, but he did not stop Rune.

Pulling the finger out, he gave it another good lick before pushing it back in to finger the tightness. Sehun clenched around it, and his throat yielded a crumbling sob.

“R-Rune,” he cried, shuddering, as Rune pressed the finger deeper to curl inside him.

His tongue eddied around the finger, licking the slightly stretched opening. Then withdrawing, Rune briefly climbed off the pallet to step out of his boots and trousers. Kneeling behind the Prince once more, he gripped a hand around his cock and aligned it in the cleft of the ass. He spat on his swollen member and rocked his hips forward to grind the cock against Sehun’s ass.

Sehun whimpered feverishly as Rune held onto his hips to thrust against his ass, rubbing the length of his cock along the crack. He then rubbed the cockhead against the orifice, his own chest rumbling with titillating groans. He wanted it so bad. He wanted to feel the boy from the inside. And he wanted Sehun to throb and clench around him, suck him in, leave him dry for more. He wanted to be inside the boy this very instant.

And Sehun must have had the same idea because his hands reached back to spread his ass open for Rune. _Shit…_ It lit Rune’s fire all the way, and he found himself getting even harder. Catching the boy’s hands that were clutched around his ass, Rune seized Sehun’s wrists, drawing his arms back to grind harder against his ass.

Rune then flipped Sehun around to lie on his back again before he tilted forward to kiss the boy on the mouth. Lowering his body against Sehun’s, Rune spat on his fingers and slid them down the boy’s crotch.

“I want to… come inside you, Sehun,” Rune exhaled, beard chafing Sehun’s neck as the man lined the Prince’s jaw with his lips. “I _need_ to…”

“Uhh…” Sehun let out, knees rising, toes curling into the pallet when Rune slipped a finger into him. “Rune,” he cried before Rune covered his mouth with his own while his fingered the taut inside of the orifice. Bringing the fingers back up, he brushed them against Sehun’s lips. As if he had received a command, the Prince swirled his tongue around Rune’s fingers and wetted them with his saliva. Rune punctually captured those lips again for a kiss as he thrust the finger back into Sehun.

The boy threshed and moaned, and his teeth tore at Rune’s bottom lip when Rune slid another finger in. That was when Sehun’s eyes betrayed a few teardrops as he dug his fingernails into Rune’s back.

“Should I… stop?” Rune asked. “If you… don’t want this.”

Sehun shook his head with a tremor. “No… don’t,” he gasped. Rune kissed his neck while Sehun held onto to him desperately, his opening stretched open by Rune’s thrusting fingers.

“You’re so warm,” Rune murmured into Sehun’s ear before he sucked on its lobe, nipping it gently. He twisted his fingers around a bundle of nerves and massaged the soft insides. Sehun then gasped, legs locking around Rune’s waist.

“I don’t want you to go,” Sehun mumbled mindlessly in a breaking voice. He clenched his eyes tight and kissed Rune despairingly. Plunging his tongue into Sehun’s mouth, Rune licked along the ridge of it and sucked on Sehun’s tongue while his fingers slid and out of the boy faster. It took Sehun a moment to divert his attention from the pain to the pleasure of having Rune’s fingers fuck his insides. And when they bumped against a hot, sweet spot, the boy cried weakly, body arching into Rune’s.

Rune smiled and kneaded the spot harder, fingers wriggling around it. Sweat beads formed on his perfect body, that was about to be taken and tarnished, as he panted out onerous breaths with one hand scoring at Rune’s back and the other clutched at the sheet of the pallet.

“Relax,” Rune goaded him and kissed the boy’s cheek tenderly. “I need you to loosen. To warm up. I’ve got you. Trust me. Relax.”

And just like that, Sehun eased around his fingers with beautiful whimpers enthusing out of his mouth.

Rune broke away to position himself on his knees between Sehun’s legs. “This might… hurt,” he warned the boy tenderly, leaning in for one more kiss. Sehun did not look concerned, or at least, he was trying not to. He trekked his hands down Rune’s chest and abdomen as the man straightened up, smearing a blob of spittle over the head of his cock.

Sehun leered at Rune’s body lustfully with his mouth panting and chest heaving. Rune dropped low to pepper the insides of the boy’s thighs with more kisses before he spat on the ring of pinkness.

There was a sudden trepidation in Sehun’s gaze as Rune rubbed the cockhead against the opening to spread the spit around. When he tried to breach the tightness, Sehun squalled and writhed in discomfort.

Rune pulled back and frowned. “You’re too tight,” he muttered and watched Sehun lay bare in front of him on the pallet, a forefinger pressed to his parted lips as a tear rolled down a side of his face. Breathing heavily, he stretched an arm and splayed his fingers over Rune’s waistline.

“It’s… okay,” he whispered with a sob. “Please, don’t… stop.”

Rune kissed the boy before he knelt back up to lour around the tent, looking for some sort of a lubricant. His eyes then fell on the unlit oil lamp in the dark. Reaching for it, Rune retrieved the canister of almond oil from the lamp and spilled the oil sloppily all over his hands.

Sehun peered at Rune attentively while the man slicked his cock with the oil. He then daubed some of the oil on his fingers onto Sehun’s slightly stretched and crimsoning opening before sliding two of those fingers in once more.

“Ugh,” Sehun groaned out, a foot impulsively rising to stomp against Rune’s chest. Rune allowed it and cupped a hand over Sehun’s foot while his fingers did their work. He reached for the boy’s sweet spot and rubbed it until Sehun was a whimpering wreck. When Rune lifted the foot to kiss the sole and the toes before he twisted his tongue around them, sucking them one by one, Sehun’s eyes widened with intrigue.

“I want you inside me… now,” the boy then begged with bated breath, clenching and loosening around Rune’s fingers eagerly. He was aroused, hard, and completely ready to relinquish his chastity.

Even though Rune knew this would leave them both with some twinges of regret when it was all over, neither of them wanted to hold back anymore.

Pulling the leg over his shoulder, Rune bowed over as his two fingers stretched the orifice enough for him to slide his finger into it between the fingers. He retrieved the fingers then and fucked the boy with his tongue, mouth wrapped loosely around the opening.

“Oh, my… God… Rune…” Sehun hissed, hands grabbing onto Rune’s hair, and the heel of his foot digging into Rune’s shoulder blade while the tip of Rune’s tongue licked his insides. He then slithered back up to kiss Sehun, all tongue and teeth with a hand pumping his oiled cock.

“I need you to be as quiet as you can,” Rune muttered as he slowly started thrusting in. Sehun almost broke out in a cry, and Rune quickly muffled the scream with his own mouth, kissing the boy tirelessly. Grabbing the undersides of Sehun’s thighs then, he enveloped them around his waist and slid further in with the help of the oil.

The opening was still too tight for Rune, but the insides were loosened with enough room to take Rune all the way in. Sehun bit Rune’s lip, sobbing as he wound his arms around Rune with a devastating cry.

Rune stilled for a moment, buried inside the boy to let Sehun get used to the pain a little. While the Prince sucked in numerous breaths to calm himself and ease the agony, Rune tried to distract him with little kisses on the lips, forehead, cheeks, neck and shoulder.

“Can I move?” Rune then asked, running a hand over the boy’s sweating forehead, stroking his hair, cajoling him to submit and trust the man. It was killing him to restrain himself from fucking the brains out of Sehun right away.

Sehun gave a jerky nod and gazed into Rune’s eyes solemnly. “Y-Yes.”

He pulled out slowly before sliding back in. Sehun hastily clung onto Rune’s neck and kissed him, as though to divert his attention elsewhere. Rune groaned down the boy’s throat as he began to thrust, hipbones slamming against Sehun’s crotch.

His hot insides throbbed around Rune’s cock and grasped it, driving Rune an inch closer to a sexual excitement like no other with every thrust.

With several more of it and with his cock knocking into Sehun’s prostate, the cries of pain mellowed in sumptuous moans. Rune pushed himself up, hands planted firmly into the pallet on either side of Sehun’s head as he picked up the pace of his thrusts.

They heard men snorting and sniggered outside the tent.

“Didn’t know of this dynamic,” Rune heard Calro say.

“Let’s give our boy some privacy, eh,” said Bullrod.

Sehun frowned, glancing at the entrance of the tent.

“Ignore them,” Rune growled and grabbed the boy’s jaw harshly to force Sehun to look only him as he fucked into him harder and faster by the second.

Sehun quickly forgot the world around him and bellowed out loud moans that could kindle the entire night. Sinking his fingernails into Rune’s back, he drew his hands down it, leaving long lines of red behind. Rune groaned but enjoyed the burning sensation those nails left on his skin.

He slid out and rose to his knees to plop Sehun around to stand on all fours. The boy could barely kneel as his entire body quaked. Rune reached for the puddle of spilled almond oil on the floor of the tent and slathered his cock with it. Burrowing his face between the ass crack, he sucked on the loose, swollen opening, his tongue easily sliding in. Sehun covered his mouth with a hand to smother the obscene noises his throat made while Rune licked and sucked his ass before he straightened up and slithered his cock back in.

Grasping the boy’s hips, Rune slammed into him, unable to hold himself back any longer. Sehun wrapped a hand around his own cock to jerk it off.

“Rune… Rune!” Sehun cried suddenly, breathing loud and hard. His hand tugged at his erection faster. Rune pulled out and pumped his thick cock, watching the boy reach the peak, shaking and whimpering. He was experiencing his climax from where Rune was fucking him a moment ago, straight from his sweet spot. And it was the most arousing thing Rune had ever encountered. Sehun pulled his hand away from his member and squirmed, biting into the pallet, crying hard as he came without touching himself, spilling all over the pallet.

Rune pushed two fingers into him then and stroked his prostate hard until Sehun was done coming and screaming. Not everyone could attain a height so painfully good on their first time. Rune would have smirked at how satisfied the Prince was if only he weren’t so close to climaxing himself.

Thrusting his cock back into Sehun, Rune drove into him a few more times before he groaned out a curse like an animal and came inside the boy, filling his insides with come.

Without pulling out, he then collapsed onto Sehun’s back, both totally out of breath, puffing and gasping for breath. Their bodies were slick from sweat and heat, and Rune’s heart pounded against the Prince’s back as he grappled an arm around Sehun’s waist and pulled him close.

Sehun lifted his head and looked back, allowing Rune to catch his lips for an indolent, drowsy kiss. He then turned away to rest his head against Rune’s arm while Rune continued to kiss the back of his shoulder, a hand gently caressing a side of Sehun’s waist, his cock still buried deep inside the now defiled boy.

* * *

It was almost dawn when Zelos barged into the tent and woke Rune up with his heavy, stomping footfalls. Rune squinted at the faint light of the dawning skies that poked through the slit of the tent.

Zelos cleared his throat. Rune tried to pull his eyes, which were leaden with heavy sleep and exhaustion, fully open to look up at the man.

“My Lord,” Zelos harrumphed, scratching the nape of his neck.

It was then when Rune realized the other sylphlike body that was pressed against his front. The blanket was barely covering the both of them. Rune blinked, propping himself up on an elbow to glance at the back of the grey head that was resting on his other arm.

They had managed to catch a couple of hours of sleep. It was not enough. It then slowly came to Rune’s realization that he was still buried inside the boy under the blanket.

He craned his head up to glare at Zelos. “Get out, Zelos,” he spat hoarsely.

“I’m afraid I can’t, Rune,” the man sighed. “The men are ready for you and the Young Prince to devise a strategy for us to usurp the King. And these aren’t the most patient of men. They are growing more agitated by the second.”

Rune groaned. “Tell them I will be there shortly.”

Zelos bowed his head and stormed out of the tent, pretending not to be fazed by what he had just seen.

Sighing, Rune gazed at the sleeping Prince. This had to be a dream, he thought. The boy’s otherwise pristine skin was besmirched with a few splotches of red and bruises, especially around his neck, wrists and hips where Rune had gripped him last night.

He ran a hand gently along the side of Sehun’s torso, pressing a kiss to the boy’s shoulder blade. Sehun shivered awake as Rune tried to slowly pull his limp cock out of him.

“No,” Sehun mumbled sleepily, moaning into Rune’s arm. “Don’t…”

Rune stilled, his hand resting against Sehun’s hip. “I have to go,” Rune muttered into the Prince’s ear before kissing the skin beneath the earlobe.

“Don’t… go,” he mewled and took hold of Rune’s hamstring to stop him from pulling out. Smiling, Rune brushed his lips along a side of the boy’s neck.

“You’re going to need to go with me, too,” Rune said. “We have work to do, Prince.”

“Okay,” Sehun moaned. “But stay.”

Rune chuckled softly and tried to slide his cock all the way back into Sehun. A soft but lazy gasp broke from Sehun’s lungs. “We have a kingdom and a faith to save, my love.”

“I don’t want them,” Sehun mumbled. “I do not want any of them.”

Rune licked his lips, tightening an arm around Sehun’s body, nuzzling into the crook of the boy’s neck. “You’ve always wanted to be the best.”

“I wanted _you_.”

Rune closed his eyes. He wished his heart would be strong when it came to Sehun. This was why he did not want to fall for the youthful, adamant, passionate, and beautiful Prince. Seeing the boy as someone who could pierce into his soul and grasp his heart in his hand killed Rune.

“I did all that… because and for you,” murmured Sehun without turning around to meet Rune’s eyes even once. He was not moving his body at all.

Rune stroked a side of his waist. “Are you… hurt?” he inquired.

Sehun did not answer.

“Sehun?” Rune breathed out, raising his head, a frown etched over his brows. “Did I hurt… you?”

“No,” the boy hissed, sounding like his old, assertive self, and hid half of his face into Rune’s arm and the other half into the pallet. “Stop asking me that.”

“It isn’t embarrassing to ask that, Sehun,” Rune told him, hand caressing Sehun’s hip. “I care about you.”

Sehun fell silent again.

“Turn around,” whispered Rune, lips brushing against the exposed back of the boy’s neck. “I would like to kiss you.”

Sehun remained cold.

Rune drew himself out of Sehun then, and the latter let out a rough whimper. Retrieving his arm from under Sehun’s head, Rune sat up.

Sehun turned at last to look at him, eyes still heavy with sleep. “I said don’t leave,” he said it like it was an order.

“I’m not leaving,” Rune snarled and crawled over to kneel between the Prince’s legs. “The men are waiting on us. I’m going to need you to come quick.”

“What are you—” The boy was cut off, gasping, as Rune shoved the blanket aside. He then grabbed the back of Sehun’s knees and folded the legs all the way until the boy’s knees were pinned to his shoulders.

With the first light sneaking into the tent now, Rune leered at reddened and stretched opening. He bent low, hands still gripping Sehun’s hamstrings to keep the legs raised and folded.

“Rune,” Sehun rasped breathily as the man wrapped his mouth around the puckered opening. His hands shot to Rune’s head and entangled themselves in the locks of Rune’s hair. He eventually removed one hand to fist his cock, pumping it as it began to harden.

Rune gave the loose orifice a few slow licks at first. Then he began to suck it, tongue sliding into the opening with ease. Sehun moaned, back pushed off the pallet, toes curling in the air, hand tugging at his cock harder as he stretched for Rune.

As he dragged his tongue up to lick and suck on the balls, Sehun threw his head back and held his eyes shut. Smirking, Rune sloppily passed his tongue all over the softened, red opening until the boy came hard.

Rune then released Sehun’s legs so that he could lean over for a kiss on the mouth. Sehun locked his arms around the man’s shoulders and eagerly returned Rune’s kiss in a surfeited haze.

“Fuck me,” the boy then whimpered.

Rune snickered, brushing Sehun’s hair away from the forehead. “You really are demanding.” He laid a kiss on the Prince’s forehead. “Not now,” he said. Sehun scowled like he used to whenever he was displeased. “We really do have to get going.”

“Would it be so bad for you and I to just live in these Woodlands forever?” Sehun muttered as his gaze turned sad.

Rune pecked on his lips next and said, “I wish for the same.”

“You do?”

“I am ready to put my battling years behind me and retire. I could really get used to… all this.” He simpered. Sehun did not find it amusing as he continued to stare earnestly into Rune’s icy blue eyes. “Making love all night. Waking up with you in my arms… But I know that neither you nor I could ignore our obligations to this realm.”

Even though Sehun had said that he did not want to be King, Rune knew that the boy would do whatever it took to secure the kingdom’s peace and the Idaem faith among the people.

Sehun frowned. “I won’t,” he let out. “I am a… Raiganiel. This is… my kingdom and… my ancestors had sworn their allegiance to Idaemïr. It is up to uphold their promises.”

“You keep your promises,” Rune said with a smile. But it only made the boy sadder.

“Not the most important one, though,” he muttered, tearing his eyes away from Rune. “I have failed to honour the oath I had taken into priesthood.”

“And your God does not resent you for it,” Rune reassured him. He picked up the Amulet of Idaemïr from the pallet’s side. The ruby had gone dull in his hands. But as he fastened the golden cord around the Young Prince’s neck, the amulet glowed once again.

Resting at the boy’s side, Rune cupped Sehun’s cheek while he surveyed the amulet with a deep frown sitting on his brows.

“Do you somehow feel its power?” Rune inquired, recalling all the times Alastríona had told him she could _feel_ the amulet.

Sehun gave a shaky nod, mouth dropped open in a trance. “It’s like… it’s speaking to me.”

“What is it saying?”

Sehun blinked at the ruby, holding the amulet in his hand. “It’s… calling me King.”

“It recognizes you as the true Raiganiel King now.”

“When I used to learn about it and how it guided the olden Kings and Queens of the Raiganiel house to grow strong and powerful, I never believed it to be true.”

“There are far more inconceivable things in this world,” said Rune, kissing the boy’s shoulder.

Sehun set the amulet back on his chest and looked at up at Rune. “It wants me to take the kingdom. I can… feel it. It’s thriving and it… wants to guide me.”

Rune nodded his head and brushed their lips together. “Then I will be by your side to see it through.”

Sehun pulled him close for another languid, deep kiss.

“Oi, lover boy.”

“Fucking Hell, Calro,” Rune gasped, withdrawing from Sehun with a jolt when Calro marched into the tent unannounced. Sitting upright, he quickly threw the blanket over Sehun’s body. Sehun sat up beside him and hugged his knees to his chest, frantically covering himself up with the blanket.

Calro did not seem to mind. Men like him never seemed to mind anything.

“We’ve been on you and this lovely Young Prince for hours now. Do we have a war to fight or nah?” Calro demanded gruffly, scratching his thick red beard.

Sehun’s cheeks darkened with embarrassment as he kept his head hung low.

Rune rubbed his temples, taking a few deep breaths. “Can you give us a moment?” he then asked the Meat Mincer, nodding his head toward Sehun.

“Oh, yes, of course,” Calro said coyly and bowed to Sehun. “Your Majesty. Don’t make us wait for long, Degenhard. Or we’ll all march in here.” He then scowled at Rune before stomping out of the tent.

Sehun finally breathed again and scrubbed his face with his bare hands. “No one was supposed to know,” he said.

“We did make love in the woods in a tent with fifty men around us,” Rune said, smiling. “And you weren’t exactly quiet.”

Sehun turned his head sharply to pin Rune with a black look. “And whose fault was that?” he spat.

“You would have been a lot louder if I wanted to make you louder,” Rune said and rose from the pallet. Sehun’s eyes followed him as the man walked around the tent to gather his clothes. “Look. These men don’t care if you’re a priest or a Prince that lays with men. For all that I know, they would fuck wild boars and their own brothers and call it a day. These men have no integrity away from the battlefield. There is a reason why they were retired from the army.”

Sehun grimaced, still watching Rune pull on his trousers. “Why are you associated with such men?”

Rune’s lips stretched into a cocky smirk. “I am one of them.”

The Prince rolled his eyes and reached for his own pants from the ground. “Even so, I am the Young Prince of Raenythör. And… I’m not ready for the world to see me for who I am.”

Rune stopped after a picking up his shirt to lour at the boy. He went down on his knees and collected Sehun’s face in his hands. “I see you for who you are, and I love you. The people would rather follow a true King that’s faithful to his heart and kind to innocents but is strong and wise all the same than follow a fake King, who has let his faith waver.”

“The people will not follow a King who lays with another man,” Sehun spat, scowling. “Even if I leave the priesthood.”

Rune clenched his jaw. “So? What are you going to about it?” His hand lowered to lightly grip around the boy’s jaw. “Are you going to ice me again and pretend like it never happened?”

“No,” Sehun said quickly. “I wouldn’t… I can’t.”

Rune retrieved his hand, sighing. “Good. Because I don’t think I could take it.” He rose back to his full height and pulled his shirt on.

“Rune,” Sehun then called, halting Rune in his tracks. When Rune glanced down at the boy, a pair of glistering, sedate brown eyes looked up at him. “I would choose you over the kingdom.”

Rune did not want to hear it. Because he knew he could not reciprocate that sentiment, even though he wanted to so badly.

Still, Sehun waited for Rune to say what he wanted to hear the most.

“Sehun,” Rune muttered instead. “I can’t…”

Sehun nodded his head and gathered his clothes before rising from the pallet to get dressed in a corner of the tent after washing some parts of his body with the water from the basin.

* * *

“Where’s your dog?” Rune asked as they made their way out of the tent and into the bustling morning. Men were taking the tents down, including the tents the King and his guards had left behind. Rune knew it was not the last of it. He also knew Garan was preparing for a war this very instant. And Rune had to be alert at all times for Daz’gon and his Deathless.

“Vrangrord,” Sehun tried calling out for the dog. Within seconds, the beast emerged from the horde of retired soldiers with a large piece of roasted buck leg clasped between his teeth.

“He was guarding us all night,” Rune told Sehun. “But he left us unguarded to eat. Not a very loyal animal when it comes to a hunk of meat.”

“Dogs must eat, too. Besides, I did not ask him to stand guard,” Sehun said defensively as he dropped to a crouch to rub the dog’s head.

Babypaw dropped the buck leg at Sehun’s foot and nudged it towards Sehun with its snoot.

Sehun blinked in surprise, looking touched by the dog’s loving gesture. He then smiled. “Good boy,” he said. “A true gentleman knows to get the man he loves and cherishes breakfast, especially after wearing him out for his own selfish purposes all night.”

Rune’s mouth fell open to gape at the Prince. “That better just be a wisecrack, Princess.”

Sehun stood up and fixed Rune with an arrogant look. “What?” he asked coquettishly.

“You are comparing me to a dog? He just stole the meat from the men! And I… I was going to get you breakfast in a moment, anyway.” He lied. The thought had not crossed his mind even once. “And for my own selfish purposes?!”

Sehun shrugged and started toward the men that had gathered around the fire that was cooking the animals they must have managed to hunt. Rune stared at the boy, who had a slight limp in his strides, but he tried not to show the discomfort in his face.

Glaring down at the dog, Rune then said, “Are you trying to ruin it for me?”

The dog growled and picked the meat back up before hurrying after Sehun.

“We cannot stay out here for long,” Rune said as he approached the others.

No one was listening to him. Every man in the crowd was busy offering the Young Prince something. Food, drinks, a log to sit on, countless compliments. Even Bullrod brought the boy a large slab of charred venison to eat.

Sehun appreciated them all as he took a seat around the fire and ate the food he was offered heartily.

“It is a pleasure to finally meet you in person, Your Grace,” said one of the soldiers.

“We are sorry for your losses,” said Gilvonor.

“Thank you,” Sehun said diplomatically. He never spoke that way to Rune, somehow. Right now, he spoke to these men as a civil, intelligent Young Prince. “And thank you for helping us last night.”

“It was an honour, My Prince,” said Calro, who was sharpening his sword with a whetstone. “But we must move fast if we still want to get you on that throne.”

Sehun put the meat down and frowned. “It would not be simple,” he said. “Usurpation of a kingdom like Raenythör takes months and sometimes, years.”

“Aye,” agreed Gilvonor. “But not for the rightful King, who has the support of the Temples, the sect, and the people.”

It did not seem to appease Sehun’s misgivings. “I have spent years learning about Kings taking down Kings. Queens toppling reigns. And they all take more than just what you said. A large army, an infinite supply of resources, and limitless determination. Even then, some wars are lost.”

“You don’t need to tell us of lost wars, Your Highness,” Bullrod said. “We’ve seen plenty. Until this one Vanguard started leading us.”

Sehun smiled at that and quickly extinguished it.

Rune realized Raven was missing when he surveyed the crowd. Zelos was standing next to Calro, who was perched on a rock.

“Degenhard says that he has a plan,” said Bullrod. “Let’s hear it out, then.”

All heads finally turned to Rune. He heaved a sharp breath. “We go head on,” he told them. “One battle. One fight. One day is all it’s going to take. That’s our strategy.”

“What?” Zelos said.

“That’s your big plan?” asked Gilvonor. The other men began to murmur around them.

“I need you guys to trust me,” Rune said. “We have a better chance at winning if we fight head on.”

“That is the single most ridiculous thing I’ve heard,” Calro spat, rising to his feet, wielding his sword. “That would be the equivalent of killing ourselves.”

“Garan will have the city on a lockdown,” Rune said. “We will not be able to breach it. And he will be readying his army as we speak. But not all of them. He would have underestimated us. He thinks that we don’t have an army, so he will most certainly be underprepared.”

“Well, we don’t have an army, do we now?” said Calro. Zelos caught the man’s shoulder to hold him back. Calro stopped, glanced at Zelos and then his hard expression softened easily. Rune wondered what that was all about.

“We attack from the east,” he said then. “I know we don’t have a clear strategy. But I think Garan will surrender sooner than we think.”

“This still does not make sense, Degenhard,” growled Bullrod. “But I trust you. You led us through all those battles with your half-assed strategies and it was what kept us alive. I am ready to follow your lead for one last time.”

Rune gave a faint smile. “How about the rest of you?”

After a moment of hesitation, the other agreed with a clamouring battle cry.

Sehun stood up and grabbed Rune’s arm to pull him aside. “You’re planning on commanding the Dead,” he said quietly, eyebrows scrunched together fiercely. “Rune. If I took the city and dethroned my brother with the help of the Dead, the sect and the Idaems will deem me sacrilegious.”

“I know,” said Rune. “And that is where…” He paused to take hold of the amulet Sehun was wearing. “this comes to play. Your faith is strong. Whether or not you break a few rules, which mankind invented. Your God believes in you and this amulet is a proof of that. The people will see that. And Garan has only just been coronated. The people would not have built their trust and loyalty for him just yet. If we strike while it’s still hot, we will have an upper hand.”

Sehun’s worry eased and he nodded his head slowly. “All right. But… when you command of an army of the Dead, everyone will know who you are.”

Rune pressed his lips into a thin line for a moment, staring into the boy’s precious eyes. Then with heaviness in his chest, he said, “It would not matter by then.”

Sehun’s gaze mellowed into sorrow. “Rune…”

“We have a war, Sehun. I need you to stay strong.” He pulled away from the Prince and started towards Zelos, who was having a hushed conversation with Calro, whose large hand was holding Zelos’ arm. “Zelos.”

The soldier turned around and pulled away from the Meat Mincer at once.

“Yes, My Lord?” Zelos asked as Rune drew him away.

“Where is Raven?”

“Uh. I’m not sure. I haven’t seen her since she left last night.”

“Well, I need you to go look for, then. We’re about to set forth for Akrowyth.”

Zelos bowed his head and started toward the trees at once before Rune halted him again.

“Does the Meat Mincer live up to his appellation?” asked Rune.

Zelos’ sunburned skin could not hide the colour that rose to his cheeks. “M-My Lord… It’s… nothing of that sorts.”

Rune scoffed and shook his head. “Just go find Raven.”

Zelos took off.

* * *

As they readied the horses to set course to Akrowyth, Rune helped Sehun climb onto Prymos and tightened the buckle of the saddle.

“Why must I ride with you?” Sehun asked, running his fingers through Rune’s hair for the fourth time while Rune busied himself with setting up the saddlebags.

“Because it is safer that way,” Rune grumbled. Sehun then touched his beard. Rune ignored it. The dog was also ready, too. The other men were putting on their light armours, that were not battle-worthy. But it would have to do.

Sehun drew his fingertips down Rune’s throat and brushed them along the man’s shoulder before dragging the hand down to the chest to feel the chest hairs that were exposed by the slit of the shirt.

Rune caught his wrist and glared up at him. “What are you doing?”

Sehun’s pale cheeks turned red at once. “Nothing.”

“You have been touching me relentlessly.”

“You have a lot of grey hairs now,” the Prince pointed out. Rune freed the boy’s wrist and bowed his head to give Prymos’ saddle one last check. Sehun squirmed uncomfortably in his seat.

“What’s wrong?” Rune asked.

Sehun shook his head, turning his flushing face away.

“Oh,” Rune let out, realizing that riding a horse after being fucked down there, even though it had been several hours, could not be ideal. “Don’t worry. We’ll ride slow.”

“I did not say anything!” Sehun snapped at him with a scowl.

Rune sighed. “What does the amulet tell you? Is this a good idea?”

Sehun frowned then. “It isn’t saying anything now… But maybe that’s a good sign. I don’t feel it resonating anything ominous. If that’s supposed to be a thing.”

“Good.”

Zelos turned shortly after with a disappointed look on his face. “I couldn’t find her,” he informed Rune.

“Raven’s missing?” Sehun asked. “Well, good riddance.”

“Sehun,” Rune chided the boy quietly. Sehun turned his head away, still scowling. Rune faced Zelos. “Have you looked enough?”

“I could stay back and look for her.”

“No, we stay together,” Rune ordered, although he was beginning to worry about Raven’s absence. He glanced down at the Death Mark on the back of his hand to see if it gave any signs of a Deathless or a Dead’s presence. It was silent.

And then from the trees, as the branches rustled, Raven appeared, the sabre in her hand.

“Raven!” Zelos gasped and sprung onwards to throw his arms around her. “Dear Maker, I thought you had been mauled by a wild animal. Or a Deathless!”

Raven blinked at Zelos, pulling away from him. Rolling her eyes then, she said, “I was praying to the Blood Faith.”

“You were praying?” Zelos scratched the back of his head.

“Well, we’re moving soon,” Rune told her. “Saddle up.”

Raven bowed her head and turned away. Zelos stopped her. “What were you praying for?”

Raven smiled then. “You’ll see.” With that, she sauntered away.

Though Sehun tried hard not to show it, he seemed relieved with her return.

Rune mounted Prymos, settling behind Sehun. “I get to ride him?” Sehun gasped in disbelief.

“Not a chance in Hell,” Rune scoffed and took hold of the reins, curling his arms around the sides of Sehun’s body. “Men! Soldiers! Brothers!” he then cried out. “Today, we ride out to Akrowyth! Tomorrow, we win our true King the city, its people, and the throne!”

The soldiers clamoured and shouted, brandishing their weapons in the air as all of them mounted their horses.

 

 

* * *

 

# C H A P T E R   E L E V E N

They rode to the east of the city without rest. Sehun eventually, deprived of sleep, fell asleep against Rune’s chest, leaning back.

Rune promised himself then that if anything were to happen to the boy, he would never forgive himself or the person who harmed Sehun.

They had become each other’s family in the span of a few, adventurous, heart-rending weeks that had started with a devastating death. It had all led up to this moment. To this war.

“The Blood Faith told me that he would come,” said Raven as they rode next to each other. Rune glanced at her. “Daz’gon will appear before you in the battle.”

“How would the Blood Faith know for sure?” Rune asked.

“Because it has seen his fate. And his fate is to fall. Daz’gon will _not_ rise. And it will be on the account of the Diminisher on the ground.”

That sparked more hope in Rune’s heart. “Thank you, Raven,” he said. “For fighting with me.”

“But there’s more,” she then said with a grave look on her face. Rune’s eyebrows furrowed.

“What do you mean?”

“Daz’gon will fall. But… there is an uncertainty of… when.”

Rune scowled. “I am destroying him the instant he shows himself.”

Raven bowed her head, eyes flitting to the Young Prince who was sleeping against Rune. “I might have been wrong about him. He is… not a coward,” she admitted sourly.

“And he will be a better ruler than any of the Raiganiels if you give him a chance,” Rune promised her.

“But you will not be here to see that happen.”

Rune looked ahead at the road, frowning. He lightly brushed his lips on top of the Prince’s head.

He ordered the men to halt when they reached the vast barren land that stretched out between the palace and the harbour. The alarm bells pealed from the palace as the horns blared to alert the guards and the King of the invasion.

“We do not charge. He will try to intimidate us into submitting in the name of negotiation first. But as soon as we get in his dungeons, it’s the headsman’s axe for all of us. We pitch here and wait for him to come out and see outnumbered we are,” Rune gave out his orders.

“And that’s supposed to fare well for us how?” asked Gilvonor.

“Like I said.” Rune smirked. “Let him underestimate us.”

* * *

The night descended upon them with dark skies bestrewn with scintillating clusters of stars.

The men drew the tents up and camped the evening on the land behind the palace.

Palace guards patrolled the towers and held their positions on the barbicans and the walls, ready with their crossbows and arrows to shoot down any assailant that edges too close to the palace walls.

“He still hasn’t come out to greet us,” said Zelos nervously as they stood outside their tent, staring in the palace’s way. “I doubt he will until we do something stupid.”

“He will flesh,” Rune muttered with his hands at his back. “Something tells me he’s waiting for backup.”

Sehun stepped out of the tent then and grabbed hold of Rune’s arm. “Come with me,” he rasped.

Rune blinked. “Where?”

“Just come with me.” The Prince dragged Rune away to the back of the tents, where they could have some privacy away from the men, who were preparing themselves for a battle.

“What is it?” Rune asked.

Sehun pulled out the Amulet of Idaemïr from his shirt and held it in his hand. “I prayed,” he said. “For the first time in… quite some time. And… I heard it sing.”

“What did it say?” Rune inquired.

“Something… evil comes our way,” Sehun said and his words rang in Rune’s ears. He had heard Alastríona say something like that only days before she died. “But it isn’t all bad. It’s warning me, but it’s always guiding me to be safe.” He smiled.

Rune wondered if Alastríona had not parted with the amulet the night of her murder, would she have been safe and alive? She might have avoided the assassination. It made Rune want to wring Garan’s neck all the more.

“Look,” Rune said to Sehun in a low voice. “I’m going to keep you safe even if it requires me to lay my life down for you.”

Sehun released the amulet to clutch at Rune’s shirt. “Do not speak that way,” he snarled, although his face had blanched, cheeks losing his colour to woe.

“Sehun,” Rune sighed, winding his hands around the boy’s wrists. “This will all be over eventually. And when it has… we must face the inevitable.”

Sehun pulled away from Rune and scowled. “How does it not bother you? To so calmly say that you would take your place in Hell as its guardian. To say that… we cannot be together. Every time you say it, I die a little. You were right. I should not have wanted your affection, only to have you abandon me like everyone else had in my life.”

“Sehun—”

The boy puffed exasperatedly and turned his back to Rune, but he did not walk away. His hands at the sides balled into fists. “You did not stop them when they sent me away. And you will not stay even if I beg you to stay.”

Rune’s heart broke. “The Dead cannot roam the living world. They are lost, Sehun. You must…” He gently took Sehun’s hand into his. “Understand.”

Sehun turned around and faced Rune with reddening eyes. He was close to tears. Rune cupped the back of his head and drew him close for an embrace. Sehun planted his face against Rune’s chest and said, “I love you.”

And the boy had for the longest of time. Rune enveloped him tightly in his arms.

“I do not want these men to die for me,” Sehun then whispered.

“They won’t. But they gladly will if it came down to that,” said Rune. Sehun lifted his head and passed a hand along a side of Rune’s bearded cheek.

“I had spent years in Nabooru, transforming myself into someone worthy of you. I wanted to return to you. And when I return, I wanted you to look at me.” He stood up on the tip of his toes to wrap his arms around Rune’s neck. “Now that you finally have, you do not intend to stay with me.”

Rune bowed his head and captured the Prince’s lips in a tender yet searing kiss. Sehun responded with twice the vigour, teeth grazing Rune’s lower lip. Sucking in a sharp breath, Rune loosened his arms around the boy’s waist to slide his hands down to Sehun’s ass to grip it. Sehun softly groaned upon Rune’s tongue.

“Someone will find us,” Sehun then mumbled in a trance.

“I do not really care,” Rune growled and kissed him fervently once more before towing his mouth down to kiss Sehun’s jaw and neck. Sehun stumbled to keep his footing, holding onto Rune’s shoulders.

No one really came to the back of the tents except to take a piss. And Rune knew the men knew better than to interrupt another man when he was fucking into someone.

“Rune…” Sehun moaned as Rune nipped at a spot on his neck, fingers laced around Rune’s hair.

“No one will come,” Rune said, sucking on the boy’s earlobe now.

Sehun pulled back then, only to go down on his knees before he hastily untangled the laces of Rune’s pants. In the dark and with the noises the men made from the tents, Rune doubted anyone would hear them.

He firmly held the back of Sehun’s head as his own tilted back when the Prince withdrew his cock from the pants and grasped the weight in both hands. The member was still limp, but Rune felt it harden promptly as the boy pressed his tongue to the slit of the cock before enfolding his lips around the cockhead.

He gave it a few struggled sucks, retching every time the cock hit his throat. Rune eventually looked down at the boy’s watery eyes and tightened his fingers around the silver strands to thrust into the warm, small, beautiful mouth.

Sehun backed away some thrusts later and coughed, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand. Then rising to his feet again, he turned around and unlaced his own trousers.

“We don’t have any oil,” Rune said.

“It’s okay,” Sehun murmured, raising his hands to grip on a pole of the tent as he bent forward.

Rune drew the boy’s pants down and drew a hand along the fair, smooth, slightly plump ass. His mouth went dry. Lowering to a quick crouch, Rune spread the ass open and tongued the orifice, smearing it well and proper with his spit. Sehun bit back on a moan, head dropped low.

Jolting up back to his full height, Rune spat on his fingers and rubbed the spittle all over Sehun’s opening before sliding a finger in.

A soft sob broke from Sehun’s throat, but he pursed his lips quickly to avoid crying out too loud. Rune fingered him impatiently until the boy was stretched enough.

Then pulling his fingers out, Rune coated his cock with plenty of spit before he rubbed the tip against the boy’s slightly loosened and eager opening. Sehun reached a hand back then to touch the orifice that Rune’s cock was stretching open, fingers parting around the erection. He croaked out a whimper but did not retrieve his fingers from where Rune was joined with him. And as Rune began to slide in and out of him between his fingers, the boy choked with moans.

He brought the hand back to grip the pole along with the other as Rune began to slam into him, occasionally spitting onto his cock to keep it lubricated.

He had never been with anyone like this. This was different from every other experience he had had. He loved every moment he was buried to the hilt inside Sehun. He loved the way the boy clenched around him. He loved when Sehun throbbed around his cock, bringing him a step closer to a climax that was indescribable. But most of all, the fact that Sehun _wanted_ all of this just as much Rune—or perhaps even more than that—gave the best thrill.

This was what making love to someone they loved must feel like.

Noticing that Sehun was starting the shake the entire tent by holding onto the wooden pole, Rune snatched at the boy’s arms and yanked them back, partially straightened Sehun’s back.

Sehun turned his head halfway around to kiss Rune messily with one hand gripping onto a side of Rune’s head while the other clung onto Rune’s arm that was wound around his torso, holding the boy up.

“I’m going to come,” Rune panted into Sehun’s mouth before he sloppily kissed it, shoving his tongue in to lick against Sehun’s.

Sehun tossed his head back against Rune’s shoulder as Rune’s fingers fiercely dug into the Prince hipbones when he reached his peak and came hard inside the boy.

Lazily lifting his head, Sehun kissed Rune. He leaned heavily onto the man as his knees almost buckled when Rune pulled out of him, leaving his come to drip out of the boy’s ass.

“You felt so good,” Rune told the boy to perk him up.

Sehun nuzzled into the hairs on Rune’s chest past the unlaced part of the shirt. “Was I?” he asked, as though he needed the validation.

Rune smiled and tipped the boy’s chin up to meet his eyes. “Yes.”

They pulled and laced their pants up before wandering back to the front. Sehun was walking haltingly and his face had not been able to hide the high colour on his cheeks. When the men saw him hurrying into a tent, some of them smirked in Rune’s way.

“I’ll your rip your tongue out if any of you uttered a word,” Rune warned the soldiers, who broke into a laugh. Rolling his eyes, Rune followed Sehun into the tent. The boy was sitting on the ground. They had not had the chance to lug the pallets with them when they left the Woodlands. They only carried what their horses could manage. And this was more than enough for now.

“You want to catch some sleep?” Rune asked Sehun.

The boy nodded weakly, shifting uncomfortably in his seat. “I don’t think I can, though. I want to know what runs in my brother’s head.”

“Don’t think about it.” Rune settled on the ground beside Sehun and pulled him down to lie on top of his arm and chest. “Sleep now. I doubt you would get any tomorrow.”

Sehun sighed. But from exhaustion and sleep deprivation, he did manage to fall asleep fast. Rune did not realize he needed the sleep as much himself as he drifted off, too with Sehun’s head resting atop his chest.

* * *

That night, Rune heard the Blood Faith’s voice.

He stood in the void, before the shrine with the Diminisher’s Axe in his hands as the Blood Faith hovered around him.

“He is no fool, Rune Degenhard,” said the Blood Faith. “And everything that falls for one sprouts two.”

“Daz’gon,” Rune muttered. “Will he show himself? To defend Garan?”

“You must find that out yourself.”

Rune glared at the shrine. “Garan will not be King for long.”

“No, he will not,” chimed the Blood Faith. “And for as long as the Amulet of Idaemïr protects the boy, Sehun Raiganiel will reign. But the amulet was betrayed once. And it cost the Queen’s life.”

“I will be there to protect him,” said Rune determinedly.

“Not for long.”

Rune clenched his jaw. “He needs me.”

“And Hell needs you, too, Diminisher.”

“Daz’gon would have lost either way if someone of the wrongful Blood Faith he promotes and promises isn’t on the throne,” Rune pointed out.

“All it took for the Crown Prince’s faith to shift was a beautiful woman,” said the Blood Faith. “What makes you think he would not buy the faith of the Young Prince?”

Rune smiled then. “Because the boy has stayed true to some vows he had taken when he was nine years old and he spent years devoted to only one. He has won my trust. And he will many more others’.”

He could almost feel the Blood Faith bristle with pride. “For an Idaem, he holds so much potential. Guide him in the right path to be a better ruler than his forefathers, Rune Degenhard.”

The void vanished, and Rune was jolted awake in the tent by Zelos and the surging morning sunlight.

“Rune!” he gasped. Sitting up, Rune glanced around the tent. Sehun was missing. “You must come with me now.”

“Where’s the Prince?” Rune asked frantically.

“He’s outside. You might want to come and take a look at this.”

Rune scrambled up to his feet and burst out of the tent, only to see the retired soldiers forming a long line of defence, all grasping their weapons. And amidst them was Sehun, glaring ahead at the palace.

Jostling past the soldiers, Rune caught the Prince’s arm and almost asked what was happening before his eyes darted to the army of Raenythörian troops lined up on the other side of the strip of land.

A hawk cawed menacingly, soaring across the morning sky. Vrangrord growled, baring his teeth from where he stood his ground next to his master. Rune released Sehun’s arm and stiffened as he surveyed the army that was barricading the palace. The soldiers were armed with swords, spears and shields. Ahead of them of the King’s bannermen, horsed and armoured.

Rune suspected the number of troops to add up to at least a thousand. And he had been right. Garan had underestimated him. This was only one-twentieth of the Raenythörian army.

“What’s the plan now, Degenhard?” asked Calro at Rune’s side.

Rune sucked in a deep breath. “They haven’t charged. Garan will come forth with a negotiation soon.”

And as he surmised, Vulred rode past the troops with a nervous look on his face and a scroll of decree in his hand.

He stopped and dismounted a few feet away before he approached them. Clearing his throat, he bowed his head to Sehun.

“Your Grace,” he said. “What is the meaning of this intrusion?”

Sehun stepped forward daringly. “I think my brother knows well enough what it is,” he spat.

Vulred frowned. “So, it is true. You wish to go against all commandments that have been honoured for generations and usurp your brother’s reign.”

“He does not deserve to be the King of Raenythör,” spat Sehun. “Or a Raiganiel.”

Vulred’s greyed eyebrows drew together. “He is the firstborn of Alastríona Raiganiel. Only he holds every right to be the King.”

Sehun did not seem faltered by that. In fact, he held his head higher and said, “He is a criminal, a murderer, a traitor and a liar.”

“What are you saying?” Vulred’s lour deepened.

Sehun drew the amulet from his shirt. Vulred’s eyes widened at the glimmering ruby. “The Amulet of Idaemïr has accepted _me_.”

“But it had gone dull since the Queen’s passing,” Vulred let out. “And… the King could not… revive it.”

“That’s because his faith has shifted to one that’s dark and dangerous. Vulred, you know better than anyone that the realm is promised to a Raiganiel that is faithful to the Idaem Faith. And for generations, the amulet has guided us. You have always been a wise man. And I know you are most certainly wise enough to have seen the truth. But you chose to turn a blind eye to it.”

Vulred closed his eyes momentarily, hanging his head. “I’ve had my doubts. The King has been issuing some strange orders, taking a particular interest in matters of the religion and the sect. Which is unlike him.”

“He also confessed that he had a hand to play in the Queen’s assassination,” Rune said, and the scholar’s bulging eyes turned to him with horror.

“You lie,” he said.

“He does not,” Sehun vouched. “I was there. Garan wants to overthrow the sacred faith that has been holding Raenythör’s peace together for aeons. He is a part of the Blood Cult.”

“No,” Vulred exhaled. “It can’t be.”

“And so is Rowana,” said Rune. “They orchestrated the Queen’s murder, acting upon Daz’gon’s best interests.”

A despairing look spread across the old scholar’s wrinkled face. “He… killed his own mother?”

“You might not believe us,” said Sehun. “But you believe the amulet, don’t you? You believe our faith. And our faith has chosen me and not my brother.”

Vulred could never argue with that now that he had seen the proof. But he frowned, anyway. “He is still King, no matter what. It is your word against his. And he has sent you an ultimatum.” He handed Sehun the scroll of decree. “Surrender forthwith, you and your unsanctioned mercenaries and the King will act mercifully upon your punishments.”

“They aren’t mercenaries,” Rune growled.

“He does not care,” Vulred said. “If you refuse, he will command his army to kill every last one of you for committing treason.”

Sehun read the scroll with a mild rage shooting past his eyes. He then lifted his head to Vulred. “We are not surrendering,” he spat. “Tell him to do his best.” He slammed the scroll against Vulred’s chest and spat through his teeth, “Before the sun sets in the east at the end of the day, I will have dethroned that bastard.”

A small smile formed on Vulred’s lips. “You have Idaemïr on your side. You will be triumphant,” he muttered to the Prince and bowed once more before he got on his horse and returned to the palace with Sehun’s reply.

“He is right,” Rune told Sehun, stealthily wrapping his clammy fingers around the boy’s hand. “You do have Idaemïr on your side.”

Sehun continued to scowl at the troops. Then tightening his hand around Rune’s, he said, “I will not win because I have the God on my side. I am going to win because I have the Diminisher on my side.”

Simpering with a lopsided grin, Rune pulled away from the Prince and turned to the men. “Soldiers, mount!” he ordered in a roar.

Baying war cries, the men pulled on their armours and picked up their weapons, saddled their horses and mounted upon Rune’s command. Even though they were severely outnumbered, Rune saw no fear in any one of their faces.

He whistled to summon Prymos.

“You don’t have an armour,” pointed out Zelos.

“I don’t think I’ll need one,” said Rune.

“Is that arrogance or confidence?” Raven asked as she reined her horse next to Rune.

“A bit of both.” He smirked.

Prymos approached Rune, ready for war as he’d ever be. In battle, there wasn’t a stallion that could oust Prymos’ speed and strength. Over the years, Rune could tell the beast had missed thundering through the haze of war.

And now as the Diminisher’s steed, he was readier than ever for a fight. Rune swung onto the stallion’s back and gave the mane a ruffle.

Sehun was given his own horse.

“Raven, Zelos,” Rune then said. “You two will not charge into the battleground.”

Both Raven and Zelos blinked at him charily. “What do you mean?” asked Raven.

“I need you to stay by Sehun’s side, Raven,” Rune said. “In case… the Deathless decide to show up to the party.”

“And me?” Zelos grumbled. “I would be much more useful fighting those troops than fighting the Deathless.”

“Yes. But you are Raiganiel after all,” said Rune. “And after today, nothing will be certain. I will not put all three Raiganiels lives at risk on one battleground.”

“I want to fight, too,” said Sehun, frowning.

“You don’t even have a weapon,” Rune sighed. “I need you to be safe before anything else.” He reined Prymos to march forward and turn around to face the soldiers. “Form line!” he ordered. “Archers to the front!”

They had about ten archers. Which was good enough.

“You might witness something out of this world here today,” Rune then went on to say. “And when you do—” he was cut off by the beat of horse hooves that thundered across the land.

“What the Hell is that?” gasped Bullrod as they turned around to look at the horde of manned horses that barrelled headlong towards them. For a moment, Rune’s mind had gone completely blank, unable to process the sudden intrusion by company of hooded men and women that carried black sabres and mysterious tattoos all over their faces.

They halted before Rune and the soldiers.

“Who the fuck are they?” Calro grumbled in awe.

“The Blood Faith called for help when I prayed to it yesterday,” Raven said, looking to Rune with a smile. “These men and women have awaited their calling and now, they are here to fulfil it.”

Rune exhaled with relief and delirium.

“We will help you take Daz’gon down, Diminisher,” said one of the men on the horses without taking his cowl off.

When Rune glanced at Sehun, he found the boy to be grinning with triumph already. While the retired soldiers stood at nearly fifty and the followers of the old Blood Faith amounted to nearly a hundred.

Bowing his head, Rune welcomed and thanked them.

“Each of us worth ten of them,” he then told the soldiers.

“We’re still outnumbered,” said Gilvonor.

“For now,” Rune said and turned Prymos around to trot ahead. He reined the horse to a halt as he gazed at the troops.

Then he waited with bated breath.

Garan eventually showed up, armoured and horsed. He did not go past the front line of his army. Rune found it difficult to believe that he was standing on a battleground, accosting the boy he had watched grow into a man. Both he and Alastríona had such great hopes for Garan. He could have been a great, fair King. But his spirit was now corrupted by the false promises of Daz’gon and the treacherous beauty of his bride.

And speaking of whom, Rowana rode up next to Garan, the Queen’s crown sitting comfortably around her head. Rune gripped the horse reins, clenching his teeth.

“I gave you a chance to surrender!” cried Garan from the other side. “You chose war, Brother!”

“Your crimes will not go unanswered, Garan!” Sehun yapped, riding up to Rune’s side.

“Sehun,” Rune protested when Sehun steered his horse to march onwards. Vrangrord trod after Sehun’s advance.

“Nobody has to die today,” Sehun exclaimed to the troops. “You serve the wrong King. Garan and Rowana were behind my mother’s murder. Their faiths have shifted and wavered by the Blood Cult. They wish to bring down the Idaem Faith in this kingdom. My mother never would have allowed it had she lived.”

“You continue to spin lies, Sehun,” Garan spat. “You are the criminal here. The criminal who sided with a murderer and helped him escape. You have committed unforgivable crimes against the King and his monarchy. And now, you stand before me with a band of war criminals and anarchists, threatening me and our peace yet again.”

Vulred rode forth then, much to Garan and Rowana’s dismay. “I saw it myself,” the old man said, loud enough for the troops to hear. “The Amulet of Idaemïr that once thrived in the hands of Alastríona and all of her predecessors that sat on the throne had lost its powers and vigour in the hands of our current King. We believed it was an anomaly that was caused by the Queen’s death. But the amulet has chosen its true owner and hence, the true King of Raenythör.”

Sehun raised the amulet that hung around his neck. “For as long as I live, I alone can wield the powers of this amulet!” he shouted. “My brother has failed to remain true to the promises our ancestors made to the God Idaemïr! This land that is soaked with the God’s graces has rejected his reign! And it is time for you to decide who your King is. Whether you choose him or me, my brother will fall.”

““Vulred!” Garan reproached in shock as the scholar started riding towards the other side. “How dare you turn against me?”

“He is the true King. I will not let you shut down the Temples. I will not let you bring down the religion.”

“Then you will die with them,” the King spat and gripped his spear before sniped it in the direction of the old man.

With a shrill scream, Vulred took the spear to his chest before he fell from his horse.

“No!” Sehun shrieked, and without thinking, he bolted forward with his horse.

“Sehun!” Rune growled after him and reined Prymos to chase after him.

“Vulred!”

Rune caught up to him before Sehun could cross the middle ground. Blocking his path, Prymos brayed viciously at Sehun’s horse to halt it.

Eyes brimming with tears, Sehun stared at Vulred’s bleeding corpse on the ground.

Garan smirked, and so did Rowana.

But that extracted a peculiar reaction from the troops, who looked up at their King in disbelief and terror.

“I want him dead,” Sehun muttered furiously.

Rune faced Garan and Rowana once again. “You cannot rule this land, Garan!” he said, his booming voice carrying across to the other side.

Garan laughed then. “I have an army, Degenhard,” he said cockily. “And more.” Rowana now bowed her head with confidence. “You have about two hundred retired soldiers and hooligans on horses. Your chances of winning this battle is zero to none.”

It was Rune’s turn to smirk as he drew the battle-axe and swung it in his hand before gripping it tight. “Think again,” he scoffed and watched the engravings on the battle-axe fire up along with the Death Mark.

As his eyes flared red and the blood in his veins coursed with hellfire, he held his left hand up and clenched it, summoning the Dead to come to his aid upon his command. Every single of them that was in close proximity.

Prymos under him rose to his hindlegs with a head-splitting neigh as blood red overtook his eyes and fire blazed from his nostrils. When he stomped his front hooves back on the ground, the land quaked at his might.

All around Rune, everyone had fallen completely silent with agog. The Raenythörian army faltered and trembled as they were faced with something it had never come across before. And at Rune’s back, the soldiers and the followers of the old Blood Faith were just as staggered by the incredulity of the sight before them.

“Stand down, Garan,” Rune enjoined in a deep, resounding voice that mimicked the voice of Hergroc from his memories.

At the King’s side, Rowana’s eyes had ballooned, her complexion turning ashen at the revelation. Rune saw her mouth, _no_.

“My King, command your army to retreat,” she told Garan in a panic.

Garan scowled in her way. “I will no such thing.” He looked ahead at Rune again. “What is this abomination you’ve sided with, Brother?!” he clamoured at Sehun.

“Abomination or not,” Sehun said with a slight tremor in his voice. “I still have the God’s grace!” He touched a hand to his amulet. “Men! You were once led by an honest Queen, who was strong and still remained true to her faith! I am her son! Sehun Raiganiel. Born to Queen Alastríona and King Vaalthor! Our God has chosen me! This day can end without any more bloodshed!”

“Enough!” Garan yapped. “Commander!”

The newly appointed Commander of the army strode to the front to the bannermen.

“Final warning, Garan,” Rune roared then. He saw the fear in the Raiganiel King’s face when the man met Rune’s blazing red eyes. The Death Mark sang with a cutting pain. Rune could hear the thudding footfalls that were closing in. He could _smell_ death in the air. The skies lost their vivacity as grey overcasts shrouded the sun, throwing a dark blanket over the ground.

“You will be stopped,” Sehun told his brother.

“You and what army?!” Garan barked back, growing increasingly anxious and desperate.

“My army,” Rune spat and lifted his hand to summon the thousands of unfulfilled, lost Dead that stampeded towards him, encircling them, ploughing the very ground they charged on.

“He’s the Diminisher!” Rowana screamed as Rune halted the Dead behind him.

Garan’s mouth dropped as the troops retreated with gasps and cries.

“Shields!” the Commander of the army ordered, and the troops did not follow, trembling in dread.

For a moment, Garan gaped at the soldiers, eyes roving them in disbelief. Then he turned them in Rune’s way, gawking at the thousands of live corpses that stood behind Rune at the ready, awaiting the Diminisher’s command.

“I must be dreaming,” Rune heard Bullrod remark at his back, mounted on a horse that stood amongst the Dead.

“None of you will win this war if it began!” Sehun cried out to the troops. “I do not want to hurt you for the crimes my brother and his wife did. Please.”

The army, both bewildered and horrified, dropped their shields and weapons. “We pledged our allegiance to serve Raenythör’s true rulers and the house Raiganiel!” one of them shouted before he stepped forward.

“Not to you,” another spat at Garan.

“They yielded,” Zelos rasped as the troops started marching towards Sehun.

“You traitors! I am still your King!” Garan shouted desperately. He then glanced to Rowana for help. “We must do something!”

That was when Rowana’s eyes darkened as she glared straight at Rune. “We have to go,” she told Garan. “We must leave.”

“No!” Garan spat. “After all that we’ve done for Daz’gon, we cannot betray him now!” Pulling down his helmet, he drew his sword and heeled his horse to charge forward.

“Raven!” Rune roared. “You and the other riders, protect Sehun and Zelos! The rest of you,” he said, turning to the soldiers, who rubbernecked at him, still refusing to believe the monster Rune had become. “fall back! This is no longer _your_ fight.”

“Rune!” gasped Sehun as Rune whipped the reins and directed the horse to gallop onwards. Prymos streaked across the land like the gushing wind.

“Daz’gon will rise!” Garan hollered as his horse careened towards Rune.

He wished it hadn’t come to this. Right or wrong, Garan was Alastríona’s child. And Rune had looked forward to serving the boy as his King one day. He had not imagined before that he would be the one to take Garan’s life on the battlefield.

And that was when his Death Mark burned the hottest and the world around him pulled away every last light of the day. A lightning broke the skies in half and was quickly chased by a thunder as the fog descended upon the ground.

With only a few feet to cross to get to Garan, an explosion of black smoke that almost split the ground halted Prymos and staggered him. Losing control, both the horse and his rider crashed the ground.

Rune groaned at the impact, hand still clutched around the battle-axe. He raised his head and looked to Prymos, who was picking himself back up already. His eyes then turned to the wall of swirling black that barricaded him from reaching Garan and Rowana.

He fisted his left hand that ached with warning.

Out of the palls of smoke and shadow, the Deathless took shape, masked, hooded and armed with black sabres.

And amid them, the shadows furled and swaddled around a larger figure before the man stepped out of them, wielding a black iron mace in his hand. His face was also covered like the rest of the Deathless, but he was significantly bigger, stronger than any of them, standing as tall and as sturdy as Rune himself.

Daz’gon.

Rune recognized him from the statue he had seen of him in that small town in Craiweth.

His heart drummed with ferocity as Daz’gon stepped away from the rest of the Deathless and held his mace in Rune’s way.

“You have been longing to make my acquaintance, Nekrón,” the self-proclaimed God of the Blood Cult said in the voice of a monster’s.

Rune pushed himself up, his eyes, veins and the battle-axe glowing brighter than ever. “Took you long enough,” Rune spat to the ground. “Are you tired of having your pets do your work?”

Daz’gon’s eyes that were the only things exposed by his mask revealed nothing but darkness. “I have come to put an end to you first,” he bellowed. “Then I will put an end to this faith that has corrupted the realm for centuries!”

He was no God. And he was no match for the Diminisher.

Garan and Rowana took cover safely behind the Deathless.

“Kill them, My Lord,” Garan beseeched Daz’gon. “Kill them all and Raenythör will take on your faith. You will be our God.”

Rune twisted the battle-axe in his hands and breathing fiery hot air, he broke into a sprint toward Daz’gon. Some of the hundreds of Deathless vanished into whirls of smoke before they reappeared around Rune, the sabres swinging in his way.

He blocked and countered the attacks, although he had overlooked the sabre that sliced his arm open. As the battle-axe struck the Deathless, turning them into dust, Rune commanded the Dead.

As the army of the Dead began haring towards him and the Deathless, Raven ordered the followers of the old Blood Faith to charge at the Deathless that barrelled in the direction of the Young Prince.

Daz’gon did not seem fazed in the least as he advanced to Rune, the black iron mace in his grip

While the Dead pounced on the Deathless and battled them without holding back, Rune picked himself up and started towards Daz’gon.

“Let’s see if you are a really God,” Rune snarled, striking down a Deathless in his way.

The Dead were too many for the Deathless to handle. And Rune noticed that even though they could erupt into shadows and disappear, they could not do it too often or for too long. The curse had its flaws.

He glanced briefly in Sehun’s way to make sure the boy was well-defended. Raven and her riders were fending off the Deathless with warlike adeptness and precision. Even though they were ordered to fall back, Calro, Bullrod, Gilvonor and the other soldiers charged forward the fight against the Deathless. While some of their weapons shattered when they clashed against the Deathless’ black sabres, some of them avoided the sabres altogether, aiming for the Deathless’ head.

Flashing his teeth and with body scorching, Rune tore head on. Daz’gon burst into a run, too, flailing the mace.

Vaulting off the ground, the masked man launched himself into the air and raised his mace with both hands. Rune halted and held the battle-axe up to block the blow of the mace that was meant to land directly on his head.

Lifting a leg, he booted Daz’gon in the chest and sent him staggering backwards before he swung his battle-axe.

Daz’gon went up in shadows then, dematerializing from Rune’s sight. The Death Mark stung, urging him to turn around.

As soon as he spun around, Daz’gon’s mace struck a side of his head, driving him to the ground.

Rune gasped for air as his vision tunnelled for a moment, and the chaotic, discordant world around him blurred like a distant echo. Something warm trickled down his face before he realized the mace had cut his face open diagonally, all the way from his left temple to his right jaw. His head pounded brutally, and he was reminded of the battles he had almost lost his life in.

In that moment, he thought of Sehun. He thought of running his fingers through the boy’s silky, unusually silver hair as he smiled down at the Prince’s velvety lips and chestnut-brown eyes. They were somewhere peaceful, serene. Far from the scene of bedlam and horror, where the Dead fought the cursed, brothers clawed at one another for power, and godlike Nekróns thirsting after each other’s blood. Like the Queen’s Belvedere, where one could let the whole world slip away.

It was what Sehun had wanted. Peace. Happiness. The man he loved. And Rune was tired enough to leave battle behind to be with the one _he_ loved.

But this could only be a dream.

The realm awaited Sehun.

The Dead and Hell awaited Rune.

 _“The war is not won yet, Rune Degenhard,”_ he heard the Blood Faith’s voice.

His eyes flashed open then and narrowed on the iron mace that was lunging at his face. Gripping the battle-axe in his right hand, he raised the left and caught the stem of the mace before it could crack his skull open.

Daz’gon’s dark eyes widened as Rune pulled himself back on his feet, huffing heavily. The Dead were mauling at the Deathless, no longer giving them a chance to even escape. Their fingers ripped open the dark flesh of the Deathless before they burst into dust.

“This realm is too small for two Gods. It was promised to the Raiganiels and Idaemïr. And I, Rune Degenhard, took an oath to protect both the house Raiganiel and the realm. You are not welcome here, Nekrón.”

He twisted the mace, the veins in his arm blazing even brighter as he bent the mace with his bare hand.

Prymos galloped forward and stomped his front hooves on Daz’gon’s back, forcing the false God to fall to his knees.

“And for as long as I’m alive, I will continue to protect this realm as its Vanguard,” Rune vowed and brought a booted foot to Daz’gon’s shoulder before he lifted his battle-axe.

“I will… rise,” were Daz’gon’s last words as Rune swung the axe.

“And I will be here to fight you again,” spat Rune. As the blade touched the Nekrón’s neck, Daz’gon tore apart into smoke and vaporized into thin air.

Whatever that was left of his Deathless followed suit and disappeared.

“No!” he heard Rowana cry at his back. He turned on his heel and did not stop until he had marched up to Garan and Rowana, who had refused to flee after seeing the _God_ crumble before Rune.

Daz’gon might have gotten away. But it would take him aeons to get the people to believe in his faith and promises again with an Idaem Raiganiel restored to the throne.

Garan dropped to his knees and hung his head, his eyes sheening with tears. He was ready to face the death he warranted.

Rowana panted, her breaths rushing out in anger. As she faced Rune, she said, “This is not the end.”

Rune flipped the battle-axe in his hand. “You will watch the wrongful faith you followed and killed innocents for rot away and no one will even remember it,” he told her. “Kneel and face your comeuppance now and I will be quick about it. Or flee and live your short life hidden away. I won’t stop until I’ve found every last one of the Deathless and razed them to the ground along with Daz’gon.”

Rowana, trembling, took a step back. “Daz’gon will rise,” she said and vanished.

Rune looked down at Garan then. “Confess,” he ordered. “Confess to your crimes.”

The man raised his head shakily and met Rune’s eyes. “I did it,” he said. “I helped Rowana kill my mother… for Daz’gon’s calling.”

Behind Rune, the battle was over, and the Dead had disappeared from the eyes of the mortals. The ground was bestrewn with dusts and a few injured men. None dead.

“And they both abandoned you,” said Rune.

Garan dropped his head again, hands gripping the grass. “Just kill me.”

Rune lowered battle-axe. “The people are not done with you,” he said. Garan looked up at him with terrified eyes. “The _King_ is not done with you. And the sect is not done with you.”

“No.”

“You will be stoned to death as per the capital punishment.” With that, Rune turned his back to Garan and started back toward his own men. The red from his eyes, axe and body died. Prymos followed him back at his side.

Sehun had already dismounted his horse was walking towards Rune, thankfully unscathed. But many of the riders were wounded.

“Seize him,” the boy ordered the troops shakily, and they hurried to Garan to arrest him at once.

Stopping before Rune then, Sehun shed a tear. Rune smiled tiredly and went down on one knee, lowering his head. “King Sehun Raiganiel of Raenythör,” he said, paying his respects.

Sehun was smiling but it did not look like he was happy about winning the war and becoming King. “You can’t leave,” he said, falling to his own knees before Rune. “I feel it. I feel… content. The amulet tells me all will be good because you will be by my side.” He held the sides of Rune’s face in his hands and kissed the man’s forehead, not caring about who was watching. He then lightly brushed his thumb along the cut on Rune’s face. “Don’t… leave.”

Rune leaned into the soft touch. “I’m not going anywhere. Not yet.”

Sehun looked like he was about to kiss Rune. But he was interrupted by Zelos, who was also uninjured and safe. Rune was immensely grateful for that.

“Sehun, it’s your dog,” he said.

Sehun shot up to his feet at once and hurried away to check on Babypaw, who was lying limp on the ground, whining and whimpering in pain. One of his front legs were cut off. The dog panted, heaving for air, his grubby grey fur covered in blood.

“Oh, Lord,” Sehun gasped and ran his hand through the dog’s fur. “You’re going to be all right, Vrangrord. You were so brave.” He looked up at the soldiers. “Take him to the horse doctors in the palace right now!”

As the soldiers dispersed, some dragging Garan down to the cells while others carried the dog and hurried him to the palace, Rune turned and faced Raven and the other riders.

“I will forever be thankful for your help,” he said, frowning at the injured riders, who were bleeding but still held their positions on their horses. “And Raven, we can never repay you for everything that you’ve done for us.”

Raven bowed her head. “It is time that we part ways, Rune,” she said, smiling sadly. “But the Blood Faith will always hold us together.”

“Be safe,” Rune told her.

She turned to Sehun next. “I hope you _will_ be the best Raiganiel King Raenythör has ever seen?” She even managed a small smile at the Prince. Sehun bowed his head, returning her smile. She then reined the horse around and joined the other followers before they rode away. Rune heaved a sigh.

“So, what the hell was all that?” Gilvonor bayed when he and the other soldiers walked up to Rune, all exhausted from the battle.

The Raenythörian troops still seemed to be jaded with shock.

“There were bloody corpses around us,” Calro growled. “Alive! And they fought for _you_! And then they vanished! And those… things from the shadows! What the fuck is going on, Degenhard?!”

Rune snorted. “I have more stories to share, my friend,” he told the men. “And this time, I will tell you all of it.”

 

 


	5. Chapter 5

# E P I L O G U E

The truth was spread all across the kingdom and far beyond, exposing the once oblivious to the terrors that were very real in this world.

Some people chose to believe while others did not. But with Garan’s public trial, more came to side with the Young Prince. Garan was forced to confess, and the people began to fear the return of Daz’gon, now that his existence was proven to be true.

The Sect of Akrowyth held its own trial for both Garan and Sehun. Once they were persuaded by the Amulet of Idaemïr that Garan’s faith had wavered while Sehun’s remained true, the talks of the Young Prince’s coronation started reaching to every corner of the realm.

It was to take place on Plesdag, third of Symoon, and the following day would hold Garan’s public execution. The kingdom rejoiced in the name of their new King and the fair punishing of their old.

Sehun voiced his plans to the sect to recognize the old Blood Faith as a religion while maintaining the Idaem Faith as the official religion of Raenythör. The priests did not seem content about that proposal, but he was about to become the King. Surely, there were some string he could pull.

The schemes to close down the Temples were also abolished at once.

Sehun issued a warrant to seize Rowana’s family in Hadräze. But they had all fled. He then reinstated the titles of the retired soldiers that had helped him in the battle against his brother. He then appointed them as a battalion of their own with Calro as their Commander, and their primary function was to hunt down Daz’gon’s Deathless all over the realm. The people would be allowed to follow the old Blood Faith in peace. But those who take upon Daz’gon’s teachings were to be seized and reprimanded at once.

Calro tugged at the collars of his new uniform’s jacket as he stood by Zelos near the water fountain in the gardens and annoyedly grumbled, “I am not cut out for this. I hate wearing all this finery.”

Zelos snickered, mustering the big man from head to toe. “You look fine.”

Calro’s eyes widened. “Really? You think… I look fine?”

The newly appointed Captain of the King’s Guard simply shrugged and walked away from the beast of a man, who went on to smirk, rubbing the back of his bald head.

In other news, Sehun was naturally dismissed from his priesthood practices as he was now to ascend the throne as King. The boy did not seem one bit upset about it. But he continued to pray devoutly every day, and with each day, the Amulet of Idaemïr recognized him as its honourable and meritorious holder until the next worthy Raiganiel would come to wield it.

Sehun was not Alastríona. He had not distanced himself from what made him happy. Instead, he grew closer to both the sect and his servants in the palace. However, he still had a hard time coming to terms that he was about to be crowned King of Raenythör. He had not seen it coming. No one had. Everyone believed Alastríona would continue to rule for two generations. And if one of her children were to rule the kingdom, it was doubtlessly presumed to be Garan. Not once in history had the Young Prince ascended the throne.

It still was not what Sehun wanted the most.

* * *

Prymos was wooing a pretty tawny mare in the stables when Rune entered. The horse nickered in his direction shortly after, as though to shoo him away. Rune clasped his hands at his back and leaned against the stallion. The stables were quiet but had a horrible stench.

“How are you doing, buddy?” Rune muttered. Prymos lifted his hindlegs and almost kicked Rune away. “You are like all men. Tossing a brother aside for a woman.”

Prymos nickered again, warning Rune to leave him alone. Rolling his eyes and sighing, Rune wandered out of the stables.

The uniform choked around his neck. He realized he had put on some weight since he had returned to the palace.

It had been almost two months since he had returned to the palace grounds, the accusations on his name vindicated and absolved. Not only that. He was also given a reappointment order as the Vanguard of the house Raiganiel and a large sum of collateral money to make up for the wrongful indictments pinned on him.

He was hailed as the Diminisher in most of part of the realm and in the kingdoms beyond Raenythör. Some believed that he was the Diminisher. Some feared him. The pious continued to view him as a sin. Some brought him offerings and requests, asking if he could see their dead loved ones or if he could communicate with them. Others wanted to use him for his powers. He began receiving offers to command armies from other kingdoms. And although those offers were enticing, his loyalty remained to the soil of Raenythör and the house of Raiganiel. He responded to all of them with a harsh no.

In those two months. Rune had begun to pray in his private quarters. He’d close his eyes and talk to the Blood Faith. That way, he always kept a connection to the faith that would aid him again should he face Daz’gon once more.

And speaking of that bastard, Rune assumed after the damage must have taken a toll on both Daz’gon and his followers. It would take a while before he could rebuild an army.

Even then, Rune would be ready for him.

But he had finally found a reason to stay on ground.

Not that he did not have a reason before.

Standing in the middle of the gardens, he glanced up at the balcony of the Young Prince’s chambers. He swallowed hard.

The Dead continued to follow him. But he was starting to get used to their presence. One day, he would fall. And a new Diminisher would take his place. Or perhaps, Rune might choose to fulfil his destiny in the underworld years from now.

But this moment, he was glad to still be here, looking out for Sehun.

It had been two months. Two months since he had even had the chance to touch the boy. They had been incredibly busy, too busy to even catch each other for a quick kiss.

Rune felt dry and desperate. Every time he had to stand by the Prince and not touch him while the boy entertained other people was a torture. And all the times he had tried to ask Sehun if he could spend the night in the Prince’s bedchamber, he had failed because Sehun was almost never left alone.

He adjusted the lapels of his coat and took a deep breath. The coronation was tomorrow. Sehun would be in his quarters preparing. He would not want to see Rune now.

Even so, Rune mustered the courage and went up to his chambers.

He stared at the guards stationed outside the Prince’s chambers for a moment before raising his fist to knock on the doors. When he heard no reply, he frowned with disappointment.

But then Sehun called from the other side of the door, “Enter.”

Rune let himself into the chambers and closed the door behind him before he wandered to find the Prince in his bedchamber, petting the now three-legged dog that was resting on the bed.

“Rune,” Sehun gasped, jolting up from the edge of the bed. Rune had expected the boy to tell him to leave, but instead, Sehun ran into his arms. “I hate being King already,” he grumbled into Rune’s chest.

Rune, with great relief, chuckled. “You will get used to it.”

Sehun pulled back and raised his head to frown at the man. “I am barely allowed to breathe. Can you believe this is the first time I’ve had some time to myself since we returned? I was just about to send the guards to find you but then I forgot because I was signing the papers that would name Zelos and his heirs as my accredited successors should anything happen to me or if I do not beget an heir and the amulet makes me feel like it is the right thing do and—”

Rune shut him up a kiss that was long overdue. He felt the boy melt into the kiss without any difficulty. And Rune’s own heart began to flutter in his chest as he gently kissed the boy’s lips one by one, hands fastened firmly on either side of Sehun’s head.

They came apart dazed and breathless. With his hands resting lightly upon Rune’s chest over the thick uniform coat, Sehun said, “I had… missed that. And… so much more.” His pale cheeks crimsoned, spreading a beautiful, rosy colour all the way to the tip of his ears.

“Well, we can fix that,” Rune rasped and smashed their mouths together, this time, kissing the boy a little harder.

“No,” Sehun whined, trying to shove Rune away. “I still have tons of work to do. The ministers are coming to see me this evening.”

Rune gripped his jaw. He then caught the boy’s waist and spun him around before slamming his back against a wall. A gasp broke from Sehun as all wind was knocked out of him. But he seemed to be appreciating the aggression as he leered at Rune with wide, eager eyes.

“You also have a lover to satisfy from time to time,” Rune growled softly, beard chafing the boy’s jaw as he licked along Sehun’s lower lip. Hands grabbing the back of the Prince’s thighs, Rune then hoisted Sehun up, using the wall on his back as a leverage to hold him up.

“Rune,” Sehun panted, locking his arms around the man’s shoulders. “It’s the middle of the day.”

“Do you not want me?” Rune mumbled upon the Prince’s parted lips.

Sehun was silent for a moment as his eyes stared at the new long scar across Rune’s face that was the doing of Daz’gon’s mace. Then with his fingers brushing Rune’s hair at the nape of his neck, the boy leaned in and kissed along the scar, starting with Rune’s temple, then his eye, the cheek and finally the bearded jaw.

“It’s a good look on you,” Sehun whispered, smirking upon Rune’s lips next. “Diminisher.”

Rune grumbled. “You are going to drive me crazy, My King.”

“I want you,” Sehun then answered his question with solemnity in his lustful gaze. “Even Idaemïr knows how much I want you, Lord Vanguard.”

“Let’s leave your God out of this.” Rune crushed Sehun’s lips under his, kissing him ferociously after weeks of not being able to do this.

Babypaw whined with embarrassment, throwing his one front leg over his face to cover his eyes before he jumped off the bed and limped out of the bedchamber.

Drawing Sehun away from the wall, Rune bore him to the bed where he planned to ravish the boy for the rest of the afternoon.

He dropped Sehun down on the bed with a thud, pinning a hand to the feather mattress near the boy’s head.

Sehun smiled when Rune pulled back to gaze into his eyes. He dragged his fingers along Rune’s jaw and said, “I like the trimmed beard.” He then ran his hand through Rune’s hair. “And the neat haircut.”

“I’m glad you noticed. You haven’t had the time to even take a good look at me.”

“You’re angry?” Sehun blinked. “You’re the one who wanted me to be King.”

“Yes. But I want you to make time for yourself and your lover, too.” He did not want Sehun to turn into Alastríona, who had been a great Queen but as a woman, she was lonely and miserable.

Sehun pushed himself up and brushed their lips together. “I like that, too. Lover.”

Rune wished he could flaunt to the entire world about the honour of being the beautiful Prince’s lover. They had come a long way. And he knew there was still a longer way ahead of them.

“Promise me,” Rune whispered, curling his fingers around Sehun’s neck to slam his head back down on the bed. Sehun groaned, but his pupils dilated with arousal. “You will always look to me when we need each other.”

“I promise. I won’t… become my mother,” he said, as though he had read Rune’s thoughts. “Now… fuck me on a bed for the first time, Lord Vanguard.”

It then occurred Rune, too. That they had never done it on a proper bed that was big enough to fit them both comfortably. And Sehun seemed excited about it. He was about to finally have Rune in his own bed, his sheets would be tainted with the scent of Rune’s skin.

“With pleasure,” Rune let out, smirking, as he straightened up and straddled the boy. He undid the laces of his coat one at a time while the Prince watched him with an impatient expression.

The midday heat and light surged into the room through the open doors of the balcony and the windows. Rune could not wait to see the boy sweat and scream under him. Just picturing those lecherous thoughts made him hard.

Hastily climbing out of the bed, Rune stepped out of his boots and peeled the coat off to start unlacing his shirt. Sehun shifted on the bed and crawled towards Rune before leaning over the foot of the bed.

“You’re already hardening,” he remarked, a blush filling his cheeks with blood as he passed a hand over the bulge at the front of Rune’s pants.

“It has been a torture for weeks,” Rune spat and grabbed hold of Sehun’s hair. “And you are going to pay for it.”

Sehun curled his lower lip between his teeth and mustered Rune, who stood before him with his shirt unlaced and bared open, clinging to his broad shoulders. “Make me pay for it, then,” breathed Sehun as he kissed Rune’s bulge over the fabric of the pants. His eyes looked up at Rune as he deliberately dragged his tongue along the arch of the cock, wetting the article of clothing.

Rune grabbed Sehun’s head and pulled him up for a rough kiss before he guided the boy back down. Oh, he had missed the heat of Sehun’s mouth wrapped around his cock.

Sehun used his teeth to untangle the laces one by one, occasionally lowering his head to kiss and lick the bulge. Once he was done, he pulled Rune’s cock out of the pants and gave it a couple of tugs with his hand before he slithered the tip of his tongue along the leaking slit.

“Fuck,” Rune let out.

“You really like it when I do that, don’t you?” Sehun asked, his hot breath slathering Rune’s cockhead. He flicked his tongue several more times on the slit before he gave the cockhead and light suck.

“You’re not going to tease me today, Sehun,” Rune groaned and pushed Sehun back to lie down. He then yanked Sehun’s shoes off.

Sehun laughed with his shirt slightly raised to expose his waist. Rune arched an eyebrow at the fine gold chain that ran around the boy’s waist, hooked to a ring pierced to his navel.

“When did you… get… that?”

Sehun raised his head to look down at the belly chain. “Oh. Now that I am no longer priest, I do not have to live modestly. I always wanted to get one. The men from Kingdom of Seasworth wore them. I thought it would honour my father’s lineage. Though I don’t think he wore one himself…”

“Your idea of honouring your father’s lineage is getting a piece of jewellery around your waist that would drive men insane with titillation?”

Sehun’s eyes widened. “I did not… think it… would. That never… crossed my mind. Does it?” he croaked out. “Are you?”

Rune made a guttural noise and crawled back into the bed. “You’re going to many marriage proposals,” he mused as he slithered between Sehun’s legs and pushed the shirt up all the way to the boy’s chest. He wanted to take a closer look at the piercing and the chain. Now that he had, he had to take his cock in his hand to pump it as he kissed the ring around Sehun’s navel. He then went lower to drag his tongue along the sharp waistlines.

Sehun’s breathing quickened, his hand cupping the back of Rune’s head. “I won’t… accept any… of them,” he gasped almost thoughtlessly as Rune walked his lips up his belly and then his chest.

“Good.” Rune sat up to rip Sehun’s shirt open. The Prince pulled himself up so that Rune could remove the shirt from his body. Instead of taking it off all the way, Rune pulled it up to Sehun’s wrists and tied the shirt around it to bind his hands together.

“What are you doing?” Sehun asked with both curiosity and a greedy avidity in his eyes as Rune fastened the shirt on the headboard, leashing Sehun’s hands to it.

“I’m going to have my way with you,” said Rune, smirking.

Sehun bit his lip, face turning scarlet. “You shouldn’t tease me either, Degenhard.”

Rune knelt up and pulled his shirt off before discarding it on the floor. Sehun wriggled his hands then, eyes roving all over Rune’s shirtless body.

“Now, you’ll understand the torment I had undergone for the past two moons,” Rune said and bowed his head to place a fluttering kiss on Sehun’s stomach. The boy shuddered and squirmed.

“Rune…”

“I haven’t even really started touching you and you’re already giving up?” Rune scoffed, unlacing the Prince’s trousers.

Taking them off, Rune licked his lips before he pressed them to the boy’s thigh and kissed all the way down to his crotch. He watched the Prince harden slowly.

Sehun had started to pant as a thin sheen of sweat glistened on his body while Rune peppered the insides of his thighs with kisses.

“Please,” the boy eventually begged in a cracking moan.

Rune gave him what he wanted and wrapped his mouth around Sehun’s cock. As he sucked it slowly, Sehun’s eyes rolled back, and he writhed with a devastating need to touch Rune.

Withdrawing after a few sucks, Rune leaned forward and undid the knots in the shirt to release Sehun’s wrists. And as soon as they were, Sehun grabbed onto Rune’s neck and pulled him down for a vicious, violent kiss, in which he bit and bruised Rune’s lips.

Grabbing those wrists once more, Rune slammed them down against the bed and positioned his lower body between the boy’s thighs.

“Take off your pants,” Sehun grumbled into Rune’s mouth.

Rune ignored the demand and drove his hips forward to grind against Sehun’s cock. That earned him a throaty moan from the boy as his hands struggled to release themselves from Rune’s grip.

He humped Sehun hard for a long moment until their fully hardened erections were aching from the friction. “I don’t want to… come so fast,” mewled Sehun into the kiss.

“I can make you come again,” Rune rasped and thrust his hips at a faster pace.

“Let me touch you, Rune,” he asked now in a plea.

Rune muffled his whines with a kiss, sucking on the boy’s tongue.

Sehun then came all over their abdomens within seconds and begged Rune to stop for a moment so that he could gather himself. Pausing, Rune loosened his hands around the wrists while Sehun caught his breath.

Then at length, he looked up at Rune’s eyes again and splayed his fingers over the man’s toned, haired chest. “I know that we can’t be lovers out in the open and to the world. But… I will not push you away like my mother did.”

Rune shook his head. “Let’s not talk about it right now.”

“No, I want to,” Sehun panted, dragging his hands around Rune’s ribs to glide them down the man’s back. Pushing down on Rune’s lower back, he coaxed Rune down until their crotches were pressed together. “I do not want us to be separated just because of the world. I want you to promise to always come to share a bed with me before the night ends.”

Rune frowned. But he stroked a side of Sehun’s face and kissed him tenderly. “I’m always yours and you’re always mine,” he promised, brushing the tip of their noses together.

Sehun shoved Rune hard enough for the man to plop back onto the bed. Then much to his surprise, Sehun crawled on top of him and straddled his hips, the cleft of his ass seated along Rune’s cock.

“My turn,” Sehun said, and Rune’s eyes had never bulged out so fast.

He gaped as the boy reached for the bedside drawer to extract a vial of what turned out to be perfumed oil.

Rune appreciated the sinful sight before him while Sehun opened the stoppered the vial and dribbled some of its content into his fingers. It smelled of gardenias from the foreign lands.

“Bloody hell,” Rune let out, bringing his hands to the sides of Sehun’s waist that was adorned by the thin chain, which looked so damn good against the boy’s ivory skin and around the subtle curve of his waist. The Amulet of Idaemïr around his neck did not seem to mind the filth they were about to commit.

Sehun froze suddenly, his eyebrows pulling into a scowl. “If you touch, I will stop,” he said.

Blinking, Rune reluctantly retrieved his hands from Sehun’s svelte waist.

And God, those pink nipples. Rune ran his tongue over his dry lips to wet them as he watched the nipples harden as Sehun reached back and slid his fingers down his ass.

_Fuck…_

“Sehun,” Rune started to growl when the boy threw his head back and moaned, a finger inside his ass. “Shit.” He started to sit up so that he could kiss and touch the Prince.

But Sehun caught his neck and pinned Rune’s head back on the bed, mimicking Rune’s moves earlier. He clutched his hand tighter around Rune’s neck with one hand while the other fingered his own ass.

“Ah… Oh… Yes,” Sehun panted, face crumpling in pleasure.

When Rune desperately raised his hands to the boy’s thighs, Sehun stopped again and fingers tightened around Rune’s neck.

Groaning, Rune pulled his hands away.

Sehun smiled complacently. “How do you like it now, Lord Vanguard, the Diminisher?”

“You’re going to _kill_ me,” Rune snarled, watching the navel ring move along with the belly chain as Sehun rode on his own fingers, all the while keeping one hand clasped around Rune’s neck.

“Do you want to fuck me?” Sehun then asked cockily, arching an eyebrow.

“I want to fuck you inside out,” growled Rune.

He pulled his fingers out and brought them Rune’s lips. Rune hungrily sucked them into his mouth and licked them thoroughly, tasting both Sehun and the sweetness from the oil. Smeared with his saliva now, Sehun brought the fingers back to his opening and slid them in.

“Sehun!” Rune knew if the boy kept this up, he would come without even being touched.

Sehun leaned over then and caught Rune’s lips in a hazy kiss before he straightened back up and spilled a generous amount of the scented oil onto his palm. He then slicked Rune’s cock with it, making Rune moan at the very grip of his hand around his pulsating shaft.

“Touch me and I will stop,” Sehun reminded Rune.

Rune kept his hands on the bed, clutching at the sheets as Sehun sat down on his cock. The noise that broke from the Prince’s throat as the cock stretched into his opening resounded through the chambers.

Rune cursed under a heavy breath once he was fully engulfed in tightness and warmth. And as Sehun began to rock his hips, he thought he saw stars at the back of his eyes.

Sehun’s entire body went red as he rode Rune’s cock, one hand pressed to Rune’s heaving abs and the other still wound loosely the man’s neck.

The way Sehun’s ass clenched Rune every time he swayed forward brought Rune a step closer to his peak. Sehun did not pause even once as he kept riding Rune, body bathed in sweat and exhaustion.

He released Rune’s neck to dig his fingers on both hands into the thick pads of Rune’s chest, speeding the rate at which his hips moved.

Neglecting Sehun’s orders, Rune’s hands flung up to grab onto the boy’s waist before he sat up to latch his mouth around Sehun’s nipple. As he sucked on it, Sehun let out a string of moans, hands buried in Rune’s hair.

When they came down, almost together at the same time, Sehun screamed out Rune’s name before he fell forward and collapsed on top of his lover, completely worn out and covered in a profusion of sweat.

It was just _outstanding._

Rune gently stroked Sehun’s back as the boy remained bent over with Rune’s cock still inside him.

He eventually slid off Rune and fell to the bed next to the man.

“That was brilliant,” Sehun said, fighting for breath.

Rune turned and kissed the boy lazily.

* * *

Sehun’s arrival to the Throne Chamber was awaited by countless priests and priestesses, noblemen and women, Kings and Queens from faraway lands.

And of course, Rune. He had been nervous all morning. This was what he had promised to Alastríona. He would protect the house and the realm. But he hadn’t managed to keep all of his promises. He could not protect Garan. But she had been naïve to believe that Garan needed her protection at all.

When Sehun finally sauntered into the hall that was teeming with a large crowd of people, who had come here to celebrate the crowning of the new Raenythörian King.

Rune gawked at the Prince, who was clad in a simple yet elegant black and gold overcoat with a faint dusting of gold powder on his cheeks, his short grey hair swept neatly all the way to the back.

His brown eyes briefly caught Rune who stood on the dais, hands clasped behind his back and he smiled. Rune returned the smile and gave a short bow of his head.

As the priests began the ceremony, the crowd fell in a uniform silence.

“I’m going to cry,” said Bullrod to Gilvonor and Calro as he pretended to wipe off tears that weren’t even there.

Once all the formalities were over, a priest placed the golden crown on Sehun’s head and announced, “We now crown Your Grace, Sehun of house Raiganiel, son of Alastríona and Vaalthor, the seventeenth King of Raenythör.”

 

 

T H E   E N D

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for reading and for leaving comments and kudos! <3


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